


Synchronized Sinning

by AceOfHearts



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Feels, Crossover No One Asked For But Got Anyway, Dancing Gays, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, M/M, title may change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-13 01:36:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 27,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5689537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceOfHearts/pseuds/AceOfHearts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dirty Dancing! AU<br/>Oikawa goes on a vacation with his family at the country club where he realizes that:<br/>a. His brother falls for a sucky waiter that Oikawa irrationally/rationally hates<br/>b. Relationships are being built as quickly as they start to fall apart<br/>c. He might have to wear fringed dance outfits</p><p>Not the summer vacation he asked for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Drop It Like It's Hot

**Author's Note:**

> Co-authored with c-cocacola on tumblr.com  
> Mutual obsession with the movie Dirty Dancing led to this. Story will deviate from the original movie storyline at parts.

The wind blows against his face, the summer humidity sticky on his skin. Oikawa sits in the back of his car with his brother, Tadashi, next to him while their father, Sawamura, drives along the country roads. In the passenger seat his other father, Koushi, plays with the radio, never content with one station for more than a few seconds. Oikawa is too lost in thought to care about the music. Instead he sits with the window open, letting the cool wind rush through his hair. They’d only been in the car for an hour but he feels liberated from the city. Finally he sits back as he breathes in the country air, feeling the last bit of anxiety drain away.

Life in the city wasn’t bad, just chaotic since their family was well known in their area due to his father’s success. Beyond the city, however, their family was unknown, which is the main reason Oikawa is excited for the sudden ‘vacation’.

At first they were skeptical, as his father hated taking off work, especially since he’s one of the best doctors in the area. But Koushi assured him that no one would die during their absence. Tadashi was also a bit unsure. He doesn’t like meeting new people, especially since they’ll be spending the entire two weeks around strangers. Still, Oikawa, being the amazing big brother that he is, comforted Tadashi, promising that everything would be okay.

Oikawa, on the other hand, knows exactly what kind of people will be hanging around the country club. Rich kids spending their parent’s money, old ladies who have too much wealth than necessary, and worst of all, golfers. Yet, he reluctantly left his comfortable lifestyle to spend two weeks with his family. Because his father worked so hard and Tadashi went to a different school, they didn’t have much time to spend as a family. Koushi was especially upset about this and had to force Oikawa into the car. But after they left the city he felt content, more at peace than he had in a long time.

After this it only takes a few more hours to get to their destination. They pull past luscious green fields and a large lake, past the golf courses and past the overly cheery players, all of whom are dressed in blindingly white clothing. Most of their family despise the game. All except Sawamura, who’d taken Tadashi and Oikawa hundreds of times as kids, only to watch them grow to hate the game. Tadashi nearly broke a club in half during a particularly long session. Oikawa wasn’t much better and, after nearly decapitating a family of ducks after throwing his club on the backswing, he is now convinced all waterfowl are trying to kill him. 

 

After passing the golfers they head down a narrow path where men dressed in black offer valet, which Sawamura declines, never letting anyone other than Koushi drive his car. While he struggles to find parking the other three family members unpack their bags. Tadashi is slow and groggy due to his prolonged nap in the car. Somehow Tadashi manages to fall asleep during any car trip longer than twenty minutes. Which, although an admirable skill, had gotten him into countless sharpie mishaps, missed bus stops, and stolen wallets. 

They carry piles of luggage from the humid outdoors into the cool air conditioned room. The room, like the rest of the club, is spacious and overly-decorated. Like most countryside places, there are random pictures of horses regardless of there being actual horses on the premises. Of course, there are also the obligatory abstract paintings on the bedside table. Yet Oikawa is pleased to see the room modestly decorated. Unlike most places his family frequents, there aren’t too many pictures and the walls are painted a simple color. Oikawa was surprised there isn’t wallpaper with galloping horses.

Koushi talks to the front desk while Oikawa admires the room. He gets their keys and hands them to Oikawa and Tadashi, who are sharing a room. They are only on the second floor, a room away from their parents’, but Tadashi slowly climbs the stairs, complaining the whole way that they should have taken the elevator. Oikawa fears he may have to push Tadashi up the rest of the stairs if he doesn’t stop whining. 

Finally, they reach their room. Tadashi slumps inside, instantly claiming his bed next to the wall as Oikawa unpacks. He is his usual restless self after the long car trip and immediately unpacks his toiletries and half a bag before he becomes too bored to continue. After sitting in the stuffy car for three hours he wants to walk around and explore the countryside. Tadashi, on the other hand, only wishes to continue his nap. 

He spends the next while in the bathroom, fixing his hair and organizing his stuff. Usually he and Tadashi have separate bathrooms so he’s careful to separate their things, which has become essential during vacations. 

After he’s finished with his hair he gets bored of waiting for Tadashi to sober up and decides to throw his pillow at him. This earns a rude gesture from his brother before he decides to slowly get out of bed. Oikawa waits until Tadashi is awake enough to go to dinner. He quickly texts his parents to meet them in the dining hall before pushing Tadashi out the door.

The hotel is nice, not just the entry room, even the hallways are lined with a faded red carpet and big windows. During the day the light filters through the windows and shines against the gleaming carpet. At night it gives off a different vibe. Instead of looking glamorous it looks threatening. He feels as if he’s in The Shining as he walks with Tadashi down the hallways, which feels far longer than it did a few hours ago. 

He’s so focused on the creaking steps above him to notice his brother talking. Suddenly, there is a hand on his shoulder, which causes him to jump and let out a less than manly yelp. His life passes before his eyes, mortified that his tombstone would either read ‘murdered by dead orphans’ or ‘scared to death by Yamaguchi Tadashi’. 

“Tadashi, what was that for?” He nearly screams, watching as his brother as he collapses into a fit of laughter, nearly causing him to fall down the stairs. 

“I’m sorry,” Tadashi tries to apologize in between laughs, “What the hell was that noise?”

“You scared me!” Oikawa yells defensively, “I thought you were a dead orphan or those creepy twins from the horror movies.” 

“Don’t worry Tooru, not even murdered twins would waste their time on you.” Tadashi says, wiping his eye as his laughter dies down.

He sticks his tongue out at his brother, who only rolls his eyes in response, “Even if you weren’t a bloody orphan I could still be in danger. Over five thousand children are scared to death each year, Tadashi,” Oikawa says, hopefully justifying his humiliating scream. 

“So you’re a child now?” 

“Rude,” Oikawa accuses, so wrapped up in fear that he hardly notices that they’re in the dining hall, talking far more loudly than anyone else. He overcomes his temporary embarrassment, leading an equally embarrassed Tadashi to his parents on the other side of the room.

He finds Sawamura talking to an older man about stocks, or medicine, or anything that makes Koushi look more bored than ever before. Before the man can get the chance to say anything else Koushi interrupts him. “Are you two having fun?” He asks his sons, grabbing the distraction before his husband ropes him into boring small talk. 

“It’s fine” Oikawa says, looking at Koushi, who is desperate to get out of the conversation. “I liked the lake.”

“It was nice, wasn’t it?” Koushi smiles when him and his brother finally sit comfortably, “We should visit sometime, right, sweetie?” He looks at Sawamura, who is distracted by the older man’s words to notice that his sons have sat down. Only after Koushi kicks his foot under the table does he notice, but not really.

“Oh, yeah, we should do that,” he blindly agrees, oblivious to the other conversation. He quickly changes the subject to avoid Koushi’s scowl. “Mr. Ukai, these are my sons Tooru and Tadashi,” he gestures to his sons as they shake hands with the other man. 

The first thing Oikawa notices is that he smells like cigarettes, the next thing is that the man isn’t as old as he originally thought, only a few years older than his father. The man, Mr. Ukai, Oikawa reminds himself, has unnaturally blond hair, which looks oddly good on a man of his age. His laid back appearance is complimented by his lack of tie and an untucked shirt.

“Nice to meet you, please call me Oikawa,” He smiles at Mr. Ukai, being as polite as always.

“Pleasure,” he says in a monotone voice, handshake firm but shaky. He looks like he really needs a cigarette.

Before he could further analyze the weird man he is greeted by someone else. The first person close to his age he’s seen since his arrival.

“Do you need any drinks?” The waiter asks, speaking to the table. His intense eyes glance around them behind his glasses, studying them carefully. It’s almost if he was judging them for something they have yet to do. His eyes gaze over Tadashi and Oikawa can’t tell if he’s disinterested or being lewd, but he eyes the table again before his look falls on Tadashi once more, who is a blushing mess. Oikawa represses a scowl. 

He instead watches the waiter’s moves. Which are confident, almost annoyingly so when they’re matched with an expression that is both cocky and apathetic. Oikawa decides that he doesn’t like this kid, who he later learns is Tsukishima, who comes from a wealthy family and studying to be a doctor, which captures Sawamura’s attention almost immediately.

From there Oikawa loses interest. The waiter and Sawamura are now making small talk. He’s mostly asking him questions about his schooling and which universities he’s looking at. Tsukishima’s answers are polite and short, his face still holds the same indifferent look as before. Soon even Sawamura is bored of the conversation, finally letting Tsukishima leave, but not before he gives Tadashi another glance. 

Oikawa looks away before he lets his loathing seep through. His eyes scan around the room until he sees a familiar face. He instantly turns his head away, nearly making eye contact with the familiar figure. Tadashi gives him a questioning looks as he covers his face with his menu, avoiding recognition for as long as possible.

Tadashi places a menu next to his and lowers his voice, “Tooru, what’s up?”

Oikawa glances over his menu to point at the person in the corner. The figure in question is talking to some elderly gentlemen before glancing around the room. Oikawa barely manages to duck before the other glances his way, “It’s Ushijima.”

“Shit,” is all Tadashi can say before he looks above his own menu, checking to see if Oikawa was right. Of course Ushijima isn’t all that hard to miss, he stands tall with broad shoulders and the annoyingly dyed hair, probably professionally done.

“‘Shit’ is right,” Oikawa says, disgusted. “Hopefully he won’t remember us after all these years.”

Abruptly, Koushi grabs a menu and joins their wall of privacy, “It’s rude to build a tower of menus. You know that, right?” Though he’s smiling as he says it.

“Then why are you adding more menus?” Tadashi questions.

“Your father can get really boring, please relieve me,” he pleads, pointing at Sawamura and Ukai, going on about golf of all things. They guffaw at something one said, slapping each other on the back.

“I’m liking the view down here, I’d rather we keep the tower,” Oikawa says, pointing at the spot where Ushijima is talking to the man. 

If Koushi recognizes Ushijima he doesn’t let it show, just continues to add more menus to their pile. They talk like this for a while, under a menu that is being held up by three others. Soon they’re talking about their shared hate in golf, remembering the awful duck story before their presence is revealed. 

“Tooru,” A voice interrupts their meeting and all three of them look up to see Ushijima. Sadly, their menu huddle had only drawn attention to themselves rather than the intended effect of repelling others. Ushijima's eyes look over Koushi and Tadashi uninterestedly before lingering on Oikawa. He feels his insides curdle the longer Ushijima looks at him, wanting to pretend that he doesn't exist. But he doesn't and smiles instead, just like he was taught to do.

“Wakatoshi”, Oikawa says smoothly, cringing at the familiarity Ushijima addressed him with, as his mind is screaming at him to stop talking. “It’s been so long.” Not long enough, apparently, Oikawa gripes inwardly.

The other lets out a noncommittal noise as he sits down next to Oikawa, deliberately making sure that their arms brush against each other.  
Oikawa side-eyes his brother, but Tadashi has buried his nose in the menu, Koushi is looking too engrossed in his drink, and Samawura is actually looking as if he approves of what Ushijima is doing. Mr. Ukai is also looking at the pair the same way. Oikawa narrows his eyes, betrayed, and breaks Ushijima’s contact by reaching for his glass of water. He sips noisily from the water and crunches angrily and loudly on the ice, knowing full well that it would annoy Ushijima, and it has its intended effect almost immediately.

“That’s bad for your teeth, Tooru.” Ushijima intones, reaching for the drink.

Oikawa places the glass out of his reach, still crunching obnoxiously on the ice with a now open mouth, hoping that maybe he could annoy Ushijima enough to go away. Sadly, Ushijima is immune to Oikawa’s antics. His father shoots him a glare, telling him to behave, and Oikawa knows that he’s going to get a talking to later if he keeps it up. He rolls his eyes once his father looks away. He even tilts his chair back, precariously balancing on the back legs, tapping his free hand erratically on the table. By the way that his parents and Mr. Ukai are looking at him, it seems that they are all annoyed, save Ushijima. He decides to take a quick break to the bathroom but Ushijima grabs onto his arm as soon as he stands up. He plops back on his seat, disgruntled.

“Oikawa, there’s going to be a party in the recreation room in a couple of minutes, do you and Tadashi want to come?” Ushijima asks. His voice is so monotone that Oikawa hardly recognizes it as a question. 

Oikawa would sooner go golfing than go anywhere with Ushijima, but he became aware that it may give him a means of escaping. “Tadashi?” Oikawa glances at his brother, who has been studying his menu since Ushijima’s arrival. He suspects that he has been looking at the same thing for the past ten minutes, as his eyes are slightly glazed over. Or maybe he fell asleep again. Tadashi was also known for going to sleep with his eyes open sometimes.

“Um, sure,” Tadashi says, disproving that he might have gone to sleep, though Oikawa isn’t sure he’s been listening into the conversation.

“Great, Tsukishima will be there too.” As if on cue, Tsukishima arrives, standing closer to Tadashi than Oikawa would have liked. 

“It should be amazing,” Tsukishima says, giving a knowing look towards Tadashi. This causes Oikawa to jump up far too quickly.

“Let’s go then,” he says, keeping his voice level and smiling to avoid suspicion. 

“You kids have fun,” Koushi waves at them. Unlike Oikawa, his smile gave away his true emotions. Oikawa almost feels bad about leaving Koushi to Ukai and Sawamura’s boring conversation. But then again, he wanted any excuse to leave as quickly as possible, hopefully keeping Tadashi away from Tsukishima and himself away from Ushijima. 

“Bye,” Tadashi says to his parents as Tsukishima helps him up, giving him that look that makes Oikawa’s stomach hurl. 

Luckily, the rooms are pretty close, only separated by a short hallway. During their short journey Oikawa has sped up into a fast walk, trying to keep a few paces ahead of Ushijima who doesn’t understand the sudden increase in speed. He briskly walks down the red carpet and into the recreation room, which also doubles as a ballroom. The only time the room was used for actual dancing was during the end of the summer talent show and during the winter when it was rented out. 

Oikawa goes into the ballroom to see the apparently ‘amazing’ party. He is disappointed to find out it is just a bunch of the younger guests in a room awkwardly dancing to semi-ironic music. He feels strange, walking into the room as Ushijima joins him there by the doorway, looking far more uncomfortable than the people dancing. Oikawa tries not-so-subtly to get him to back off, putting as much distance between him and Ushijima as possible. It fails, however, when Ushijima drags him into dancing, grabbing his hands before Oikawa can refuse. They start to do a moderately paced dance, their bodies thankfully not touching. The same was unfortunately not the same for his hands, locked into a slightly sweaty grip by Ushijima as Oikawa tries to wiggle his fingers free.

He gives up and his eyes drift over the room, trying to find a distraction for his current dilemma. He soon finds that the guests are making room for something, a dance routine in the middle of the room. He half expects someone to attempt break dancing, but is, however, met with something far better. Two guys are doing something in the middle of the room. Their dance isn’t anything too special, but he has to admit they look good. Both of them with short black hair, one curly and the other spiky. The spiky haired boy is tan and more muscular than even Sawamura. The other one is taller, but paler and far less powerful. The shorter one is leading the taller one, dipping and twirling them. Their movements are so fluid that it makes up for the height difference.

Oikawa is too absorbed at looking at their movements that he almost misses Ushijima’s snort. He pulls away his gaze to look at Ushijima questioningly.

“Dance people,” Ushijima mutters, glaring at the pair. Oikawa takes this momentary distraction to quickly pull his hands away from Ushijima’s grasp and stuffing them in his pockets.

Oikawa may not admit it, but he was entranced by the shorter’s moves. He’s confident, moving in time with the other’s body and maintaining eye contact. The whole thing is actually intimate, more intimate than anything he’d seen. Their feet are moving fast, lifting their legs, and leaning against the other, Oikawa is surprised that a man could move his leg so high, soon the taller had his leg on the other’s shoulder, pressed flush against him and showing off his flexibility as if it were nothing.

Suddenly, the taller one is lifted up over the other’s head. Oikawa, who has never been into dancing, is amazed. He’s so impressed that he doesn’t notice the open mouthed look on his face. He, like most of the audience, is in complete awe. As the taller descends from the air, their arms wrap around the shorter’s neck, both of them laughing softly at something only they knew. They continue dancing after this, their actions getting faster and the moves more dramatic. 

They’re close. This is Oikawa’s impression. They must be a couple. No one else would touch another person so intimately in such a casual way. He notices that their arms are wrapped around each other, the leader’s hand on the other’s waist, his hands around their neck, faces only inches apart. They look good together and Oikawa can’t help the jealousy that creeps its way into the back of his mind. He wants that and, for the first time, he wants to dance. He wants someone to touch him so intimately and to lead him through the complex steps as if it were as easy as breathing. 

The couple looks so happy that they hardly notice the owner gesturing for them to stop. He looks pissed, probably because their dance isn’t something a dance instructor should be teaching. The moves were risky and if he was being honest, not appropriate for a family setting. After a couple of seconds they spot the wide arch of his arms and slow their dance to a stop, motioning for the rest of the guests to continue as they cheer and clap. Oikawa is vaguely aware that he’s clapping louder than anyone else. Ushijima is frowning in distaste right beside him.

The couple walks off; now that their dance has ended they don’t seem so close. They’re smiling as they switch partners, dancing with random people in the room, occasionally glancing at each other to see how they’re doing. Oikawa hardly notices that he’s still watching the two, even when they’re on different sides of the room. He watches as they do simple steps with a diverse assortment of partners, mostly girls who beg the shorter man to lift them over his head. 

Oikawa is abruptly pulled out of the room by Ushijima, who is none too pleased. Oikawa just scoffs, knowing that arguing with Ushijima is like arguing with a rock, he isn’t sure if he’s oblivious or devious, either way he lets Ushijima lead him outside.

He half expects him to glare at the onlookers who are clearly staring at the two, but he even had the audacity to grab Oikawa’s hand and look unaffected. They walk in silence, Oikawa almost sulking while Ushijima keeps his ever present poker face. 

"You should have came with me to Shiratorizawa", Ushijima says, right next to his shoulder.

Oikawa represses his urge to shriek both out of surprise and frustration. Why doesn't this guy get it? He makes his own choices, not obediently doing what his parents want, and especially not because of this guy. "I am not a child!" He screams internally. He starts to walk away, increasing his speed, the other approaching to match his pace.

"Shiratorizawa!" Ushijima calls, not looking at all affected by the light jog they were doing.

"Go away!" Oikawa finally yells back, starting to give up hope when he sees a short orange-haired boy.

Said orange-haired boy was currently struggling with an armful of watermelons, trying to juggle them in place as he shakily reaches down to get another. Oikawa breaks into a sprint, stopping short of him. "Please, let me help you."

The boy gawks at Oikawa and his face quickly crinkles in disgust at the sight of Ushijima before becoming completely neutral. Without saying a word, he shoves a watermelon into Oikawa's chest, causing the latter to let out a grunt of surprise before taking it. He starts walking towards crudely built stairs, motioning at Oikawa with his eyes to follow him. Somehow, Oikawa knew that Ushijima would dare not follow them.

They eventually get up the stairs to the front door, resting for a few seconds to catch their breath. Since he couldn’t open the door with his hands, the boy turns around and suddenly booty bumps the door, watermelons sliding out of his arms before he bounces them back in place.

Oikawa almost regrets his decision as he steps into the impromptu dance floor slash staff building. Almost. He takes in the sight of the staff dancing, bodies undulating as they grind on each other, and edges away, hugging the watermelon closer to his chest. The music that blasts from the doorway is gritty and raucous, something that clashes against the jazzy or classical music from the main building.

“I’m Hinata, by the way,” the boy says, leading Oikawa further into the cluster of moving bodies. 

“Oikawa,” he responds. 

“What were you doing with him?” Hinata asks, in a poor attempt at hiding the disgust in his voice.

“Ugh, family friend. Our dads used to play volleyball or golf or whatever back in the day. The next thing you know, Ushijima’s trying to get on my ass. It’s been going on for the past, I don’t know, four to five years?”

Hinata just nods in understanding, leaving his questions unanswered. Oikawa is thankful for this, not really wanting to explain his situation to a stranger.

Hinata walks next to him, trying to make conversation over the music. He doesn’t recognize the American songs but they sound older than the music he usually listens to. Then again he doesn’t listen to rock or anything of the sort. He’s always been fairly flexible with music, hardly ever sticking with the same genre for more than a few weeks. 

Hinata bounces as he walks and Oikawa isn’t sure if it’s because of the music or just his natural stride. This makes carrying watermelons harder than before but Hinata doesn’t look bothered by this. Oikawa finds it strange that he’s blindly following Hinata to some unknown destination, but he’s just happy to be away from Ushijima. Plus, Hinata’s company isn’t unwelcomed. 

“You think you would ever dance like this?” Hinata says, motioning with his head at the staff. They are yelling parts of the lyrics and whooping as they dance tirelessly, moving in time with the music. 

Oikawa doesn’t answer, just shrugs before continuing to watch. Everyone is so energetic that Oikawa wonders if they did this every night, drinking and dancing for who knows how long? He is confused as to why that didn’t sound like a bad life. He is even more amazed to realize he was jealous of such a relaxed lifestyle. 

“Oh man, you should meet my cousin. He’s the one who got me this job, y’know?” Hinata half-yells over the music, struggling with the watermelons. Oikawa isn’t really listening, as the appearance of the two dancers from before cause an increase in excited whoops near the doorway. They are not even inside completely before they start dancing. 

“Yeah?” Oikawa says eventually, still intently staring at the pair. If anything, their dancing becomes even more sensual, a bit more free now that no one is there to stop them. The taller’s face is more open, smiling widely as his legs wrap around the shorter’s waist. And bends over backwards, fingers almost touching the ground as his hips undulate. The shorter throws his head back, face slick with sweat, one hand firmly supporting his partner.

They continue dancing as he and Hinata move behind the bar. Oikawa just leans on the table and watches the dancing, his eyes occasionally moving around the room but inevitably falling on the pair from earlier. Hinata is under the bar doing God-knows-what with the watermelons. 

They continue like this for a few minutes, a few songs go by until Hinata is done maneuvering the melons. He pops up abruptly from beneath the bar, nearly causing Oikawa to jump. “You like that?” He asks, his eyes landing on the pair that he was watching. “That’s Iwaizumi, the cousin I mentioned earlier. The other is Akaashi, he teaches lessons here.” He points to the shorter and the taller, respectively.

“Oh really?” Oikawa is watching the two, who stop dancing after a bit. The shorter’s shirt sticks to his skin due to the sweat on his body and Oikawa gulps. 

Hinata's cousin- Iwaizumi, did he say?- strides over to them. He eyes Oikawa with open hostility, almost sneering at the expensive clothes he was wearing. "Who's this?" He asks, jutting his chin out in Oikawa's direction.

"This is Oikawa, he needed to get away from… him." Iwaizumi visibly tenses at the mention of “him” before Oikawa cuts in with, "Yeah, I carried a watermelon." And wanted to slap himself for saying such an inane thing. Seriously? Watermelon? 

Iwaizumi looks unimpressed and starts to walk away. "Whatever. I don't care. Just take care of him but don't bother me. If he can't dance, he's not worth shit." At this, Oikawa bristles. Of course he could dance! Iwaizumi glances over at him, and as if he could read his mind, says, "What? The waltz? That ain't real dancing." In the back of his mind Oikawa wonders why he’s so offended by Iwaizumi’s accusation. He’d never done much dancing before, and he definitely didn’t do any of this.

He motions at Oikawa with his finger, not saying a word. Oikawa finds himself following, and after throwing a glance back at Hinata, who simply shrugs, making his way to the dance floor.

“Show me,” Iwaizumi says without preamble, leaning his weight on one hip as he crosses his arms.

“Like right now?” Oikawa is taken aback. “I, uh,” He can’t do this in a room full of strangers, much less demonstrate anything in front of a dance professional.

Iwaizumi steps back and points to his hips. “Like this,” He says as he demonstrates, and points at Oikawa to do the same.

It feels unnatural, and his face is scrunched in concentration as he stares down at his hips. He feels like he’s getting the hang of it when he finally looks up and sees Iwaizumi laughing.

“Shoyo, he dances even worse than you,” He cackles, looking back at Hinata, who seems slightly miffed at the comment. “You’re just moving your legs back and forth,” He points out to Oikawa, who, to his mortification, finds that it is true.

“Yeah, right, Iwa-chan,” He snorts.

Iwaizumi makes a face at the nickname but his expression soon changes, looking smug before he suddenly dips Oikawa, who only leans back a few inches before wrapping his arms around Iwaizumi, who laughs at him. 

The next thing Oikawa realizes is that he’s falling.


	2. Indefatigable Youth

He’s not falling in love, but actually falling.

“Shit.” Oikawa thinks as he plummets, arms out in an attempt to catch himself. Hopefully he wouldn’t stiff arm himself-

He jolts as an arm catches him before he crashes on the ground. He looks up and finds Iwaizumi staring at him with an almost pitying expression. Their faces are inches apart and he realizes that Iwaizumi has full power over him. If he chose to, he could drop Oikawa on the floor, finishing what God and gravity intended a few seconds ago. This makes Oikawa feel oddly angry and he abruptly gets up, dusting himself off.

Iwaizumi puts his hands up in surrender when Oikawa turns as if he were leaving. Instead, he gets into Iwaizumi’s space, making the other half-step back, but Oikawa bridges the gap, closing Iwaizumi in before leaning into his ear.

“Can’t dance, huh? I’ll show you.” He mutters darkly and starts grinding on Iwaizumi, much to both their surprise. Before he can back off the other pulls him closer, keeping a firm hand on Oikawa’s back.

Oikawa’s movements are unsure at first, but he soon starts moving to the beat of the song, mimicking what he saw the others doing earlier. The longer they dance the quieter the music seems. Eventually the music fades out of Oikawa’s mind and he doesn’t care about the other people watching. At the moment, he doesn’t care about anything. There is a haze around them, a fog that won’t clear, blocking out anything other than the feel of Iwaizumi against him.

His face must betray his emotions because Iwaizumi has a knowing smile. “Where’d you learn to dance like this? Didn’t know private school taught these moves,” but his voice isn’t as harsh as earlier. His eyes aren’t as judgmental either, they scan over him with more than the disinterested look from before.

Oikawa’s still too caught up in dancing to answer, instead he gives a brilliant “uh huh” before pressing his hips closer to Iwaizumi, who gives a light chuckle and holds him even tighter, which seemed impossible until now.

Suddenly, it’s Oikawa’s goal to wipe that smile off his face. He grabs Iwaizumi by the back of the neck and turns his body around, Iwaizumi letting out a huff of surprise, pressing his back against Iwaizumi’s chest. They move like this for a while, Iwaizumi’s breath against Oikawa’s ear and leaving him dizzy.

They move to the music, the familiar fog settles in his brain. He can’t shake it off, just presses as close as possible, feeling Iwaizumi’s every reaction against him. The shift of his hips, press of his chest, hitch of his breath, all of it drives him mad. It causes Oikawa to turn into putty in his arms, twisting and moving under his will. Previously, that would have ticked him off, but now he craves the sensation.

Finally, his goal is accomplished. He glances at Iwaizumi, who is so focused on Oikawa’s body that his cocky smile has disappeared. Oikawa doesn’t know which one is more intense, his smile or that look, which leaves him breathless and leads to a not entirely unwelcome feeling pooling in the pit of his stomach. He decides to turn around, face Iwaizumi again to hide the inevitable blush on his face, holding onto the fabric of his shirt without stopping his movements.

The song transitions, and only then does Oikawa realize what they were doing.

“Fuck you,” Oikawa breathes, hands still tightly gripping onto Iwaizumi’s shirt.

“No thanks, pretty boy,” Iwaizumi replies, as he pushes Oikawa away. Oikawa wants to follow him, instead he just watches him leave. Watches him twist his way through the mass of bodies, all moving together as the beat picks up.

The rest of the night passes in a blur, as if Oikawa is drunk- his body still buzzing with adrenaline until he leaves, albeit a little regretfully, a few hours before dawn. He creeps in quietly through the back door and makes his way up the stairs, heart beating fast, but this time for an entirely different reason. His parents would kill him if they knew what he was up to, but it helped that Koushi snored very loudly while Daichi either slept with a few pillows over his head or became a heavy sleeper during the nights when he didn’t have a shift. Tadashi is thankfully passed out as always, curled up in the fetal position as his blankets are all over the place, spilling onto the floor.

Oikawa gathers the blankets and spreads them over Tadashi, smiling as he did so, before he goes to bed himself.

\--

The next day Oikawa finds himself by the lake. He managed to drag himself out of bed at an acceptable time, even if he was only able to sleep one or two hours. Luckily, the rest of his family is in a similar state.

Although it was originally Koushi’s idea to go to the beach, Oikawa found himself alone. After leaving Koushi at the hands of Mr. Takeda and Sawamura, he went to the bar. In the morning he could hardly get out of bed without cursing and whining. Usually Koushi is the first one up in the mornings, waking up his grouchy family.

Not today. Today, Sawamura volunteered to help him through the morning. Another example of Koushi’s notoriously terrible hangovers.

To make it worse, Oikawa woke up to see Tadashi missing. His younger brother typically slept in later than everyone else, making it hell to wake him up at a reasonable time. Yet, when Oikawa texted him, he said he was busy. It was suspicious, but not unheard of. Oikawa only hoped that he wasn’t with Tsukishima.

So, Oikawa sits on the beach, watching families play in the water. He smiles at two kids playing volleyball, trying not to be bitter that his family ditched him. He and Tadashi both play volleyball but hardly ever get a chance to practice together.

Luckily, there were random activities the staff put on every day so he wasn’t as bored as he could have been; it also took his mind off being alone. He decided to enter a sand castle building contest, thinking it was an easy way to pass time, only to realize that sand is the devil. It only took a few seconds for his clothes and skin to be covered in the pale powder. After kicking down his sad excuse for a sand castle he walked away, cursing the sand, the beach, and everything that tries to make his life miserable.

He walks for a few minutes with his head held low, trying to burn holes in the sand with his eyes. When, suddenly, he finds himself walking into something solid. He looks up, afraid he’s run into an angry father. Instead he’s face to face with Akaashi, who flinches upon contact.

“Oh, I’m so sorry Akaashi,” Oikawa exclaims in shock, causing multiple families to turn around and sneer, as if they were angry that other people dare make noises while in a public area.

“No, it’s fine. Oikawa, was it?” Akaashi asks, stopping to talk to Oikawa despite being in a hurry a few seconds ago.

“Yeah, are you going to a lesson?”

“It starts at one so I have a bit of time,” Akaashi gestures for Oikawa to walk with him, never bothering to take his sunglasses off. Oikawa also notices that his shirt is also buttoned all the way to the top, but he assumes that it’s part of the dress code. “Are you thinking of learning? I saw you dance with Iwaizumi yesterday.” He gives Oikawa a knowing look, as if insinuating something Oikawa isn’t aware of.

It takes him a few seconds for to fully understand what he was saying, “Oh, that. Don’t worry, I was just proving something to him after he showed me some stuff, nothing else. I swear we weren’t doing anything else.”

“Why should I worry?” Akaashi asks, lifting an eyebrow with an amused smile on his lips. Though it’s hard to tell with Akaashi- his face is usually void of expression.

“Well, aren’t you two, you know, together?” He stops to turn to Akaashi, fidgeting with the bottom of his shirt and avoiding eye contact.

Instead of answering, Akaashi just smiles. One of the first real smiles Oikawa has seen him make. “Not for ages, we grew up together though.”

This is surprising to Oikawa. They seemed so close yesterday he could have sworn they were married. Although it seems inevitable considering they’d known each other for so long.

“So, are you thinking about it?” Akaashi asks, breaking Oikawa out of his thoughts as they continue up the grassy hill.

“What?”

Akaashi rolls his eyes with a small smile. “Taking lessons,” he reminds him.

“Oh! I don’t think so,” he rubs the back of his neck and smiles politely.

“You can take them from Iwaizumi, if you don’t kill each other first.”

Oikawa doesn’t answer, just thinks about Iwaizumi touching him, lifting him up and twirling him around. He remembers dancing with Iwaizumi yesterday and thinks back to what he did when they were together. How tight he held him, how close their faces were, everything was so surreal he couldn’t believe he did it. He burns with embarrassment at his brash actions, all because he wanted to prove Iwaizumi wrong. He’s so wrapped up in thought that he doesn’t realize the awkwardly long pause.

“Oikawa?” Akaashi asks, once again pulling him out of his thoughts.

“Oh yeah, sorry, just got distracted.” He tries to stop an instinctive blush from spreading across his face, failing miserably.

“You can even do private lessons, I bet he’d love spending time with you.”

It takes a while before Oikawa realizes that he’s being sarcastic. His tone hardly changes when he talks, but, unlike Tsukishima, it doesn’t piss Oikawa off.

“Shut up.” He turns his head away so the other won’t see his blush deepening, and lets out a snort. Akaashi just laughs, walking up the concrete steps leading to the recreation room.

“Well, this is my stop. I’ll see you later Oikawa,” He waves him off before stepping inside a two-story building, never taking his sunglasses off. Oikawa doesn’t think to be concerned until later in the day, especially since it isn’t particularly sunny.

            --

“Tooru.” Koushi waves a hand in front of his face. “Tooru!”

Oikawa falls back into reality with a startled jerk of his body. “Yes, dad?”

“I was asking you where you go off to so often.” His dad looks at him with some concern, as do his other family members.

He’ll be barraged with questions and comments- both unnecessary and unwanted- if he admits he’s been stalking the dance instructor. After last night’s incident he’s been doing his very best to annoy Iwaizumi. Cornering him after each lesson and poking fun at him mercilessly. Although Oikawa has never thought of himself as a sadist, he’s definitely enjoyed watching Iwaizumi’s angry expressions. He’s even picked up a new name, ‘Shittykawa’.

“Tooru? Are you with us?” Koushi asks.

His mind goes blank as he nervously fidgets with the folded napkin in front of him. “Um.” His eyes dart around, looking for a hint when his eyes land on the bathroom sign. He takes a deep breath to steady his nerves before he tells a blatant lie.

“I think I might have constipation.” Although he says it with a straight face, it comes out a little too loudly, drawing the immediate attention of neighboring families in the dining room. _Nailed it_ , he thinks sarcastically, cursing himself for being such an idiot in public.

“Tooru, did you forget that I am literally a doctor?” His father questions him, giving him an unimpressed look. Oikawa looks at Sawamura and blanches. He actually did forget.

“No, father, I didn’t.” Another lie. He braces himself for light teasing from Tadashi, but instead sees him trying to make eye contact with Tsukishima from across the room. Annoyed, he tosses the napkin in his brother’s face, effectively distracting him.

He waits for some kind of reaction and instead gets something that he doesn’t expect. Not only does Tadashi place the napkin back on the table, but doesn’t say a word about it. His eyes continue to follow the waiter’s every step. Oikawa suddenly feels ill as he watches his brother go through the process of getting a crush.

His parents share a look that is a combination of concern and exasperation. Rather than questioning their son’s odd behavior, they decide to leave it alone, changing the conversation.

The rest of dinner is relatively painful as Oikawa wants to go back to his room and practice before everyone else goes back, or something. Anything that will spare him the lovesick look on his brother’s face. His parents try to initiate conversation by commenting on the quality of the food but end up talking with each other not so subtly about the struggles of raising not only one, but two teenage boys.

“I’m tired,” Oikawa announces, and excuses himself from the table. Tadashi absently waves him off, never looking away from Tsukishima, who had just returned from his break. He fakes going to his room and heads to the kitchen, hopefully finding some peace and quiet there.

\--

“Where did you go off to yesterday?” Ushijima comes up silently next to Oikawa, his voice echoing in the empty kitchen. Oikawa almost screams, whirling around and slamming the refrigerator shut. He’ll be damned if he tells Ushijima what really happened last night, and besides, it’s not his business anyway.

Oikawa shrugs. “I saw you walking with one of the staff,” Ushijima presses.

He hopes that if he ignores Ushijima then he’ll go away, or at least stop talking. Instead, he suddenly seems to be aware that they’re alone, pressing himself closer to Oikawa as he steps over a discarded pot. Oikawa doesn’t shy away because, although an asshole, Ushijima would never make a move. He may hide it, but he’s awkward when it comes to anything sexual. Oikawa had learned that a few years earlier when he had a first hand experience with Ushijima’s attempt at flirting, which was laughable at best, but mostly pitiful.

Ushijima clears his throat and Oikawa half expects him to start flirting, but to his horror he just says this, “I know I’ve said it before, but I really think you should come to Shiratorizawa.”

Oikawa just sighs, and although appearing to be calm on the outside, on the inside he’s strangling Ushijima. He wants to act on these thoughts but all that comes out is a cold, “So I’ve heard.”        

“Hey, I mean it, I don’t want to watch you waste your talents with those types of people.” Oikawa has to stop himself from laughing. Arguing with Ushijima is pointless because he only has one counter argument, which consists of the same six words Oikawa’s been dreading since the start of high school. The same words that follow him around in his nightmares, causing him to cringe every time he even hears the name ‘Shiratorizawa’.

“Really,” Oikawa replies with raised eyebrows. “What makes you the judge of that?” He snaps.

There was a time when Oikawa considered going to Shiratorizawa, but even Sawamura has given up since then in trying to cajole him into attending. The moment Oikawa heard that Ushijima was attending the school he promptly burned all the pamphlets advertising the school and abruptly became deaf when the school’s name was spoken in his vicinity.

He applied to Aoba Johsai instead, another private high school that was not as good as the other, but as long as it was away from Ushijima, that was all that mattered. Besides, he would rather burn in hell for all eternity before he lets maroon and white touch his skin. Plus, his school’s colors of turquoise and white complement him better, in his opinion.

Oikawa tunes Ushijima out as he goes on a long-winded explanation on why it would be better if they were at the same school and opens the door of the refrigerator again. Doing this effectively makes a barrier between them as he tries to drive the point home that he doesn’t want the other near him. He eyes the nearly empty carton of eggs, a few Tupperware containers of soup, and some shriveled apples from God-knows-when in the corner of the fridge before closing the door. Before it closes all the way, he catches sight of something on the other side of a shelf. Once he looks back he sees Akaashi curled up in the corner, hands over his mouth to stifle any noise.

Oikawa tries his best to look normal and pretends he doesn’t notice the other figure. “Wakatoshi,” Oikawa says sweetly, aiming to distract Ushijima. “You must be so tired, and I appreciate your concern, but you should go to sleep.” He promptly shoves him out of the kitchen, pushing him past an array of fallen pots and pans. “Good night.”

Ushijima opens and closes his mouth, looking confused at first, but is used to Oikawa’s antics by now. Instead of questioning the other boy, Ushijima walks back to the hotel while Oikawa walks back over to Akaashi, nervously hovering over the hunched figure before he decides to get Hinata.

It doesn’t take him long to run back into the staff building and just as quickly he finds Hinata, who is messing around with the same watermelons as the day before. Oikawa decides to not ask any questions, instead he just yells over the pounding music about what he saw into Hinata’s ear. The younger boy drops the watermelons and rushes to Iwaizumi. It’s only a matter of seconds before the three of them run back to the kitchen.

Oikawa isn’t surprised when he’s told that this isn’t the first occurrence of the sort. The sunglasses, the buttoned up shirt, the fallen pots, all of it suddenly make sense.

And it breaks his heart.

            --

“He did this to you again, didn’t he?” Iwaizumi’s voice is unusually gentle as he speaks to a seated Akaashi.

He’s been like this since entering Akaashi’s cabin, standing around Akaashi like a prisoner surrounded by interrogators.

“No,” Akaashi says defensively, although his voice lacks conviction.

“He?” Oikawa asks, but gets no answer as Iwaizumi speaks again.

“Take your shirt off,” Iwaizumi instructs. “And the sunglasses.”

Oikawa stares at the two of them, confused.

At first Akaashi doesn’t move, just bites his lip and remains where he is. Iwaizumi only watches him, arms crossed and waiting patiently, eyes holding a gentleness that Oikawa has yet to get used to. Akaashi eventually breathes out and shoots Iwaizumi an exasperated look with something akin to a bemused smile before doing as he says.

The first thing that Oikawa notices is that his abdomen is marked with many bruises, all in various stages of healing. The stark contrast between his pale skin and the purple to yellow-green bruises makes Oikawa breathe in sharply. The sunglasses come off too, revealing a purple eye and a lightly bleeding scratch. On further inspection, a fading handprint is also on Akaashi’s cheek.

“How did you know?” Akaashi slumps in his seat, not bothering to hide the marks as he tosses the glasses to the side.

“You think that I wouldn’t notice if my partner was suddenly flinching every time I touched him? And wearing sunglasses when it’s not even that bright out?” Iwaizumi laughs drily. “Keiji, we know each other too well for this. Tell me, what did he do?”

Akaashi looks at a spot on the carpet as he starts talking, “He asked me to meet him in the kitchen,” Akaashi begins, “He was angry but it was hard to tell at first- you know how Tsukishima is- and then he pushed me.”

Akaashi finally meets Iwaizumi’s eyes, “He said I wasn’t enough for him, so he started kicking and shoving me around until he reached the point where he crashed from drinking too much. Then he left, and Oikawa found me a few minutes later,” Akaashi sounds like he’s reciting the information, complete with a blank face.

“What do I keep telling you?” Iwaizumi says, exasperated. “I’ve said-”

“I know!” Akaashi yells, his voice suddenly getting louder, stopping Iwaizumi before he can continue, “I know,” he repeats calmly, “but I can’t. You know that.” He sounds helpless, breaking eye contact to look at his hands.

“And that’s what makes it even worse. The fact that I can’t take care of someone who means so much to me.” Iwaizumi clenches his fists, quickly standing away from the circle and running his hands through his hair in frustration. He goes further into the room before punching a nearby wall, breathing heavily. “Damn it!” He yells, causing the other three to jump slightly.

Hinata rushes over to his cousin and places his hand on his shoulder, but Iwaizumi angrily shrugs him away. The wall is now sporting a small cracking hole while Iwaizumi’s hand is rapidly turning red and swollen.

Oikawa isn’t that surprised about the information. He already had a bad feeling about Tsukishima but he didn’t think that he’d go that far, and now the evidence is right there before him. He burns with anger, hoping that Tadashi won’t get caught in this mess either.

“Akaashi,” Oikawa says tentatively, “I have something that you can use to cover up the bruises.”

\--

During breakfast, Oikawa sees Tsukishima eyeing his brother again. He wants to play the overprotective brother, the way he used to when they were kids, to put Tadashi behind him as he insults Tsukishima to his face. He knows that Tadashi would stop him if he even tries. They aren’t kids anymore and Tadashi can take care of himself, or at least he thinks he can.

Of course his father doesn’t say anything bad about the tall blond, how could he? The young, aspiring doctor from an affluent family. Probably someone that would be sought after by fathers and their daughters alike.

If only his family knew what Tsukishima is really is like, what he’s capable of. Tadashi is currently trying not to look at Tsukishima as his eyes dart to every corner of the room, but they eventually rest on the other briefly. Tsukishima has something reminiscent to a sneer on his face as he takes in Tadashi’s discomfort, almost as if he enjoys seeing it.

The bastard.

Oikawa holds onto his fork like a lifeline as he resists the urge to stab Tsukishima with it. The metal grows warm in his hands as the minutes pass by and he angrily spears his fried eggs, the tines screeching against the plate.

Koushi is the only one who notices, though he’s too hungover to comment, just twitches every time the fork hits the ceramic plate. Oikawa doesn’t care, just watches Tsukishima bitterly as he and Sawamura small talk.

That’s another thing Tsukishima is good at, being exceedingly boring. It angers Oikawa more, already grouchy from the previous day’s encounters. He hates that everyone- Akaashi, Hinata, even Iwaizumi- acts too normal now, as if nothing happened the day before. The only evidence of the previous night are Tsukishima’s bloodied knuckles, which match Iwaizumi’s.

\--

The concealer that Oikawa brought with him proves to not be enough a few days later; the shade is too dark and doesn’t blend well, and it eventually runs out too soon, which is when the bruises show through.

They’re all back in the cabin, thinking of a way to help Akaashi, who has a show in a week.

It’s in another hotel a few miles away,” Hinata explains, “Akaashi can’t dance without flinching, so they’ll probably have to cancel.”

“I’m sorry,” Akaashi says to Iwaizumi, who is pacing the room before kneeling next to Akaashi.

“It’s not your fault, I’ll explain it somehow.” Iwaizumi’s voice loses its regular aggression, which still sounds foreign to Oikawa.

“I’ll do it, it’s my mess,” Akaashi sighs, looking away from Iwaizumi and back to the spot on the carpet. He probably knows the pattern by memory. Unlike the guest rooms, the staff rooms are old and many of the decorations are donations from years back. This one was filled with mysterious stains that circle around a tacky pattern in the center.

“Keiji,” Iwaizumi says firmly, waiting until Akaashi looks at him until he talks again. “We’re in this together, we’ll get you out of this. I promise.” Oikawa doesn’t miss how Akaashi’s shoulders relax. He doesn’t blame him, even Oikawa feels comforted by Iwaizumi’s words.

Oikawa likes watching them interact. Although he won’t admit it, he’s been watching them since he’d seen them dance together. He enjoys seeing Iwaizumi’s gentle side, which is strictly reserved for either Akaashi or Hinata. Still, he likes to know that it’s there, that even the strong Iwaizumi Hajime has a soft spot.

He wracks his brain for a way to help, trying to remember how else he covered up his bruises in volleyball. Suddenly, he gets an idea.

“I can learn,” he says quietly, more to himself than anyone else. He wants to help, especially since the performance will affect their jobs at the club. Although he doesn’t think he can get away with grinding this time.

“You think you can fill in for me?” Akaashi asks shakily, tears starting to well up in his eyes. His bruises have multiplied, making them too hard to conceal with buttoned up shirts and sunglasses without raising suspicion. However, the appearance of Tsukishima with a slightly bruised jaw at their dinner table a few hours before was an immediate cause of concern, Tadashi almost jumping at the waiter to ask who did it to him, Sawamura frowning in concern. Oikawa pretended to look like he cared, but on the inside, was cheering. He deserved it and more, after what he did to Akaashi.

“Of course,” Oikawa says with conviction. “Just tell me what to do.”

The next thing he knows he’s wearing compression pants and a crop top. He feels oddly vulnerable, even more so when he sees Iwaizumi eyeing his figure with an unreadable expression on his face.

Akaashi, on the other hand is delighted that his shirt fits Oikawa. He was skeptical at first, vaguely aware that most shirts cover his stomach, but Akaashi assured him that it’s supposed to look like that. Unknown to him, Akaashi and Iwaizumi share a knowing smile.     

\--

They step up to each other and, as Oikawa places his hand on Iwaizumi’s shoulder, he notices how toned the other is. He then looks down at their hands and sees how his own is almost enveloped by Iwaizumi’s. Although he was much closer the other night, Oikawa was too occupied to notice.

They start out slow, or as slow as Iwaizumi will allow. He’s a strict teacher, constantly stopping mid step to criticise the other. Oikawa hopes that he can learn the dance, and fast. Akaashi is almost always present at their practices, keeping both him and Iwaizumi from killing each other.

“Don’t step on the one!” Iwaizumi nearly screams at Oikawa as they restart the music again for the umpteenth time. He points emphatically at the sign hanging over the floor-to ceiling mirror that says the same thing, “Don’t Step On the One!” in all capital letters.

Oikawa bites his lip so that the curses wouldn’t come out, stung at Iwaizumi’s reaction. He wants to stomp his foot on the ground like a child as he pouts, but he doesn’t. He pushes his sweaty hair back from his forehead and grits his teeth. He has already had enough of Iwaizumi; first impressions could go die in a hole. Wrapped up in his anger, he doesn’t care that the other is reasonably more attractive and more muscular than anyone he knows. Right now, Iwaizumi’s the sweaty, pissed off instructor who’s burning holes into Oikawa, not even breathing heavily after an hour of dancing.

In contrast, Oikawa, who has had his fair share of light exercise, is learning that dancing is not light at all, but as intense as any other sport. His hair sticks to his forehead annoyingly and tangles in his eyelashes. He wishes that he has a hair tie or something but quickly abandons the idea when he sees Iwaizumi tapping his foot impatiently on the floor. He steps up again and they take their places, Oikawa willing his arms to stop shaking from exhaustion. If Iwaizumi notices, he doesn’t say anything, choosing to look intently into Oikawa’s eyes. The music starts, and Oikawa finally remembers not to step on the one.

After an hour, Oikawa looks longingly out the window; hopefully they could finish in the next five minutes because his whole body is aching. He slumps, and Iwaizumi immediately corrects his posture impatiently, and thankfully, Akaashi has changed the record.

He raises his foot as the music starts its first strains, and Iwaizumi makes a noise. Oikawa puts his foot down, only to raise it a second later.

“No.” And again.

“Not yet.” A few moments later, “Okay.”

\--

When he is not doing anything, Oikawa practices the steps by himself, in the shower, his room- when no one is around-, any place where he can do it unseen and uninterrupted. Ushijima is thankfully out of sight since the night he was unceremoniously shoved out the door by Oikawa, something that he counts as a blessing.

However, his impromptu dances has caused several guests to eye him suspiciously. Rather than running like a scared child down the hallways like he used to, he now dances down the red carpet, pretending that Iwaizumi was leading him through the steps. This only caused him to shudder at the thought of him criticising his posture. Even in his imagination Iwaizumi is strict, calling him ‘Assikawa’ among other insults.

Yet, his partner isn’t the only problem Oikawa faces with dancing. He collapses, panting, against the doorway of his shared room and groans. His hair has been bothering him more as of late, and he decides it’s high time he does something about it.

After taking a quick nap, he trudges over to the front desk, not bothering to change out of the crop top and shorts.

“Excuse me, do you have one of those things for your hair?”

The clerk looks at him in confusion. “You mean like a shower cap?”

“No, the things that girls put in their hair.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” the man says, confusion and irritation seeping into his voice before he adds a polite, “Sir.”

Oikawa grasps at a lock of hair and twists it, hoping that his pantomime would make things a bit clearer.

This time, the clerk makes a face of realization and goes to a backroom, coming back a few minutes later.

Oikawa looks down at the overly pink and bejeweled box that is placed on the counter.

“Um.”

“Is this for your girlfriend? I’m sure she’ll love it; this is one of our most popular items, as it contains a set of hair ties, barrettes, and other accessories.” He sounds rehearsed saying it, the peppiness in his voice not quite reaching his face, making him sound like a robot.

Oikawa nods dumbly at the barrage of information and pays for it without thinking. He staggers under the weight of the box, which proves to be much heavier than he thought. After making his way up the stairs, only falling four times during the journey, he opens the box.

He is met with ribbons, bows, and an overabundance of sparkles. Upon opening it he has to stop the supplies from overflowing. Still, a few clips and brushes fall to the floor, leaving a trail of sparkles on the carpet.  

All Oikawa wanted was a hair tie. He rummages around and eventually finds a black one. Although simple, there are small rhinestones glued to it, still, he prefers it over the others that are tied with ribbons.

He ties his bangs back at the top of his head, leaving the rest of his hair alone. He looks at himself in the mirror, grimaces, and takes it out before going over to close the door. After an hour of wrangling with his hair, he finally manages to tie it correctly, admiring the mini ponytail in the mirror. The sound of footsteps outside the door makes him rip the hair tie out, taking out a considerable amount of hair with it. Maybe he shouldn’t have tied it more than three times, he thinks as his eyes water.

Tadashi opens the door and jumps, clearly not expecting his brother to be there. “Tooru, what are you doing here?” He asks, closing the door quickly behind him.

“I was just picking something up.” He says, trying to push the pink box away from Tadashi’s view with his foot.

“Oh, well,” Tadashi plays with his thumbs, a nervous habit he picked up from Sawamura, “Are you going back soon?”

Oikawa just eyes Tadashi, who’s acting suspiciously, “I haven’t decided yet,” he says, not missing Tadashi’s panicked expression. “Maybe I’ll take a nap or something.”

“You sure?” Tadashi winces, noticing his lack of subtlety. “It’s a nice day.”  

“Positive.”

“Good, well, I’m gonna head out in a sec.” He pulls out his phone, sending a quick text before heading into the bathroom. Oikawa sincerely hopes that Tadashi doesn’t have Tsukishima’s number.

“Hey Tooru?”

“Hmm?”

“What’s this box?”

Shit.

“It was here when we got this room, so I’m just, you know…” Oikawa trails off uncertainly, but luckily his brother has lost interest. He sighs and collapses into bed, body relaxing after Tadashi has left the room.

\--

A few hours later Oikawa finds himself awoken by a door slamming open. “Father and dad wants us to come to dinner as a family because we ‘haven’t been eating together as much,’” Tadashi says in obvious disappointment, looking disheveled and irritated.

“Interesting.” Oikawa is surprised at his brother’s almost abrupt tone and appearance. He would bet his whole life’s savings of 20 dollars and some cents that Tadashi is being influenced by Tsukishima. Before, he wouldn’t even have come in unannounced, but would have knocked on the door or something.

Oikawa cleans up, trying to hide the sore feeling in his muscles. He feels exhausted, not feeling any better from his nap before Tadashi came in. He doesn’t comment as Tadashi tries to fix his own appearance. He’s wearing a collared shirt, which is unusual in itself, and popping the collar, which Tadashi despises.

Oikawa knows what Tadashi is hiding. He tries not to ball his hands into fists as he fixes his hair, eyes averting to his brother’s neck with obvious distaste. Tadashi only sticks his tongue out at his brother, fixing his shirt to hide the marks.

Oikawa wants to talk about Tsukishima, to tell Tadashi what he’s seen, but then he’d have to tell them about Akaashi and Iwaizumi, something he isn’t prepared for. Instead he hides his disgust by making rude comments later to Tsukishima whenever he serves them, which go ignored by his family. Still, he can sense their growing irritation with him.

After a few minutes of fixing up they go downstairs, surprised to find their parents away from their usual table and instead spot them at the bar, Daichi sipping periodically on water, Koushi fiddling with his drink’s coaster.

“Koushi, I don’t think you should drink any more. This is your third drink in an hour.” Sawamura says with a concerned voice, letting his professional side take over.

Koushi spins around in his stool to face his husband. Unfortunately, he miscalculates and over-spins, giggling as he does so. He’s late to notice his sons standing awkwardly together and waves them over, nearly falling out of his seat with excitement.

Oikawa steals a look at Tadashi, who looks equally as mortified as he does. His dad only drank in times of dire need, and he guesses that this is probably one of them, while his father never drank. Oikawa hopes this was also not caused by his father and Mr. Ukai again.

“What’s this one called, dad?” He asks Koushi before an uncomfortable silence sets in.

“Sex On the Beach,” he replies simply, taking the pineapple slice off the rim and sucking on it meditatively as his husband chokes on water.

“Sounds...great?”

“I know, you should try it sometime,” Koushi says nonchalantly as he takes out the slice and waves it in the air. “Once, your father and I-” Three hands simultaneously clap over Koushi’s mouth before he can elaborate any further.

Tadashi looks slightly ill, Oikawa is beyond grossed out, and Daichi looks absolutely mortified. If this was their parents’ idea of a family dinner, it is far from it.

They stay at the bar, all three of them acting as babysitters to Koushi as he threatens to throw the pineapple slice at a passing waiter. Instead he settles for throwing it at Sawamura after he tells him again to stop drinking.

“You kids wanna drink too?” Koushi asks, but is quickly shut down by Sawamura. Once again he is ignored as Koushi tells the bartender to give them whatever.

“I’ll have an Arnold Palmer,” Tadashi says, after a moment of thinking.

“That’s weak, son,” Koushi pouts, looking slightly disappointed. “Tooru?”

“Koushi, he’s seventeen-”

“Shh, it’s just one drink, Daichi. Plus, you’ll take care of both of us since _you’re_ the doctor.” Koushi points out.

Tooru decides to get a real alcoholic drink, ignoring his father’s protests. Koushi, being as drunk as he is, throws his hands up in celebration. Watching as Tooru takes his first sip of alcohol, or so Koushi thinks.

As it turns out he’s never been properly drunk. He’s had a few sips of beer before, but nothing harder than eggnog. One drink turns into two, then three, and before he knows it he’s had four drinks and is talking far too animatedly.

After his sixth drink he’s talking nonsense, “But what if we could hear colors?” Oikawa says passionately. Beside him, his dad nods along.

“I absolutely agree,” Koushi pats his son on the shoulder. A little further down, Tadashi and Sawamura try to make idle conversation, pretending they are not related to the pair.

Oikawa’s head is spinning, a million thoughts pouring into his head as he loses track of the conversation. He’s pretty sure they were talking about UFOs, yes, definitely UFOs. “Aliens, dad. Aliens. They’re out there and they’re real.”

His dad stops for a few minutes, contemplating the idea before he finally starts nodding his head, “Yes, Tooru, they’re out there,” he slurs.

“They have to be!” Oikawa yells, knocking over his drink. Rather than cleaning up the golden liquid he just moves over, hoping that no one would notice it was his.

He didn’t fool anybody.

The bartender begrudgingly cleans up his spill, shooting him a nasty look before turning away. Oikawa just continues where he left off, “Do you think aliens have visited Earth?” He asks no one in particular, “Or are we the aliens?” He later throws a tantrum about this, dimly aware that his brother is laughing and recording the whole thing on his phone to be later used as blackmail.

\--

Oikawa rolls out of bed the next morning feeling as if he can conquer the world. The only problem stopping him was that the floor was shifting alarmingly with every step. Other than that, he feels perfectly fine after what, six drinks? Was that even legal? Thankfully, he hasn’t died, so he decides not to stress too much about that.

Luckily his family is still asleep. He quickly writes a note that he’s going to the lake, adding a smiley face at the bottom before he goes into the bathroom. Although he feels fine, his reflection reveals last night’s events. His eyes are red and his hair a mess, he smells like alcohol, probably due to the spilt drink. He doesn’t even want to know what his breath smells like. Due to his hungover state it takes an extra ten minutes to clean up.

Before he leaves he waves to his sleeping brother, who is snoring slightly. As he goes to Iwaizumi’s studio he runs down the hallway, still afraid of imaginary twins that may try to kill him. Once he reaches the stairs his breathing evens out, pretending that he wasn’t just running for his life.

At the bottom he’s met with Tsukishima, who gives him a questioning look before turning away. Oikawa sticks his tongue out at him, suddenly aware that running while hungover is one of the worst decisions of his life. He staggers out of the room, walking in the straightest line he can.

He rushes into the dance studio and is met with Iwaizumi stretching. “You’re late, Shittykawa.”

“Beauty sleep, Iwa-chan. Something you’re obviously unfamiliar with.”

Iwaizumi gives him an unimpressed look, matched with his permanent scowl, “Let’s go.”

\--

He does half of the dance perfectly until he twirls clumsily, face hitting Iwaizumi’s upper arm, bungling another spin as he missteps and loses his balance, crashing into the other’s chest. He feels too tense and maybe a little hungover, but it’s also not really helping when Iwaizumi is constantly judging him.

“Can you...stop that?” Oikawa asks, after a particularly bad turn.

“Stop what?”

“This.” Oikawa motions towards his face and pulls an expression to mirror Iwaizumi’s.

“My face, you mean.”

“That. I mean- yes, that.”

“I’ll try to fix my face if you try to fix your dancing- at least try to remember the steps,” Iwaizumi mumbles, making an even angrier face than before.

“Rude, Iwa-chan.”

Iwaizumi makes another disgusted face at the nickname. “Again,” is all he says, forcing them to start at the beginning.

They dance for what feels like hours, never going more than a minute into the song. Oikawa is starting to think he may throw the stereo out the window if he has to listen to _that_ song again.

Luckily, the stereo is saved when Akaashi comes in. Every once in a while he comes in to check on Oikawa’s progress or dance with him when Iwaizumi takes a break. He doesn’t know how, but Akaashi makes him feel more at ease, going through the steps palm on palm, or when the other guides him from behind as he dances with Iwaizumi, hands firmly on his hips. Akaashi hums softly along with the music as he smiles encouragingly at Oikawa.

He is careful not to touch Akaashi too much, the bruises still tender as they go through the last stages of healing. He doesn’t say this to anyone else, but the only thing that keeps him going through the grueling hours of dancing is Akaashi.

\--

“Stop.” Iwaizumi growls, annoyed for the umpteenth time as Oikawa starts shaking with laughter. There is the one move at the beginning of their dance in which Iwaizumi’s hand brushes along his arm, but every time they practice it, Oikawa always bursts out laughing.

“I’m sorry,” Oikawa giggles, trying to keep a straight face, biting his lip as they go back into position.

Again, then.”

The same thing happens, and Iwaizumi looks like he’s about to lose his shit.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. Just… Give me a minute” Oikawa is trying not to laugh, his lips twitching at the effort to suppress it.

“Dead puppies.” Iwaizumi says suddenly.

“What?”

“You’re laughing, so think of dead puppies or something. I don’t know.”

“Iwa-chan, that’s so morbid.”

“It’ll help though, just think of something sad.”

“Hmm, dead puppies,” he tries, “Dead puppies.” He feels sad, obviously, but not sad enough to ignore the brush of Iwaizumi’s arm, which causes him to giggle again.

“Jesus Christ,” Iwaizumi mutters, “Think about something sad! Think about your brother.”

“Tadashi?”

“Yeah, he’s with Tsukishima right?” Iwaizumi paces the floor, the same thing he does when he’s angry. “Think about what happened to Akaashi, imagine finding Tadashi in the kitchen all bloody and bruised. Imagine somebody else finding him and not knowing what happened, God knows he wouldn’t tell them, he probably wouldn’t tell you anyway.” Iwaizumi says. At this point he’s ranting, unaware of the horror in the other’s eyes.

Oikawa’s eyes involuntarily water and the next thing he knows, he’s crying.

“Oh shit. Was that too far?” Iwaizumi rummages in his pockets and takes out a handkerchief. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

Oikawa tries to speak but instead makes undignified squeaking noises, further embarrassing himself in front of Iwaizumi.

They sit in silence for a few minutes, Iwaizumi awkwardly trying to comfort Oikawa. The latter attempts to stop crying but he can’t, the thought of Tadashi getting hurt is too much. He’s known that he can’t protect Tadashi forever, but now he’s actually facing a situation where Tadashi won’t come to him for help, or even want to. He’s always been the strong older brother, but now he’s just useless.

It takes a few minutes for Oikawa to calm down. Somehow Iwaizumi took his biggest fear and made it real. It did, however, make him stop laughing when they started up again. They did the first step effortlessly, actually managing to get through most of the song before Oikawa trips.

“I’m sorry,” he says, still sniffling.

“It’s fine, you did great today.”

Oikawa stops to look at the other. “Iwa-chan,” he starts, “Was that a compliment?”

Iwaizumi’s face flushes as he looks away, “Shut up, Oikawa.”

Oikawa doesn’t hide his smile as he continues to poke fun at Iwaizumi, enjoying the blush that spreads across his face.

“I bet Iwa-chan thinks I’m a great dancer.”

“I do not, I think you dance like a squirrel. No, someone with constipation.”

“No, you’re lying. You think I’m the best dancer you’ve ever seen.”

“Shut up, Trashykawa,” he says, punching Oikawa’s arm, “Plus, you’re an ugly crier.”

“What does that have to do with my amazing dancing skills? I bet your face looks even worse when you cry. Even worse than what it looks like now, which is saying a lot.”

This earns him another punch on the arm.

They go through the next hour without further comment, dancing skills or otherwise.

\--

Today is not going to be a good day, and Oikawa can feel it. Before he even came into the studio the clouds were building up in the horizon, rapidly darkening the sky. He zones out more than once while dancing, and Iwaizumi is trembling with anger.

“Eyes on me,” Iwaizumi snaps, motioning to Oikawa’s eyes and to his own.

“Okay,” Oikawa says meekly, and looks up, meeting Iwaizumi’s gaze. And promptly steps on his foot.

He hears Iwaizumi take a deep breath in and exhale loudly, pinching the bridge of his nose. Akaashi was busy today, unable to calm either of them down in moments like this.

They finally get the steps down until the end, when they both fling their arms back. Oikawa, however, does it too quickly and too much, causing Iwaizumi to lose his balance and almost wrench his back.

“What the hell are you doing?” Iwaizumi yells, finally snapping.

“You know what? Screw this! Screw you!” Oikawa yells back. “You’re not doing anything to help me, and we have to perform in a few days!”

Iwaizumi exhales loudly while running his hand through his hair. “Let’s leave.”

“Leave? Leave where?”

“You’ll see, we’re getting out of here before we actually hurt ourselves,” Iwaizumi puts on his jacket and motions for Oikawa to follow him outside.

They run outside, battered instantly by the pouring rain, Iwaizumi leading the way to his car. He fumbles around as he looks for his keys, then looks through the window. He curses loudly and jiggles the door handle to no avail. Oikawa watches a few feet away, shivering in his wet clothes.

“Missing something?” Oikawa asks, hiding his smile.

“Shut up.”

“Come on Iwa-chan, don’t let lost keys stop you from following your dreams.” Oikawa proclaims in a sing-song voice.

“My dreams hardly consist of getting in this car,” Iwaizumi growls in reply, searching his pockets again.

“Well, looks like we’ll still have to practice indoors today, like normal people.” Oikawa starts walking away, looking back to see that Iwaizumi hasn’t moved, “Iwa-chan?”

“Like hell I’m going back, I said we’re leaving so we’re leaving,” Iwaizumi quickly takes off his jacket and puts hit over his hand, which is balled into a fist. Before Oikawa can stop him he punches the window, breaking the glass and opening the door.

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa starts, running to see if his hand is injured, “You’re such a brute.” Fortunately, his hand is fine, the thin layer of jacket proving to be enough protection.

It feels liberating to leave the club, the same feeling he got when he first left the city. Oikawa heaves a sigh, leaning back in his seat as he looks over at Iwaizumi, who is gripping the steering wheel tightly with one hand, the other tousling his wet hair.

\--

They continue driving for a few minutes until they reach the end of the club’s property. The downpour has slowed down into sprinkling, and so they walk down a path, trying not to slip too much on the leaves, until Iwaizumi stops right in front a log suspended over a small creek. Oikawa watches as the other steps onto it confidently, not wavering when the log starts to shake, and takes off his shoes.

“What the actual hell,” Oikawa breathes out, and sits down on the ground. He lays back and closes his eyes, relaxing as the sounds of the creek and the smell of wet undergrowth overtake his senses. He listens to Iwaizumi maneuver his way back and forth on the log and tenses when he feels his presence over him.

Oikawa cracks open an eye to see Iwaizumi beckoning to him and quickly shakes his head, waving the other off to leave him alone.

“Get on.”

“What? No.”

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, “Do you wanna do lifts or not? It’s all about balance, see,” he emphasizes his point by jumping on the log, which causes Oikawa to squeak in fear, although Iwaizumi lands perfectly, smirk on his lips.

“You’re not going to take ‘no’ as an answer are you?” Oikawa sighs.

“Nope, now come on.”

Oikawa groans as he gets up. He didn’t have plans for dying today, he just wanted to learn the last of the dance. He definitely didn’t sign up for this.

Oikawa stands on the other side on the log, taking a shaky step forward, hands outstretched on either side. He takes another step, now three feet away from safety. He keeps walking, looking down at his feet as he walks across nature’s deathtrap. He flinches at the sudden dip when Iwaizumi comes over-no, strides over- never really looking down.

“Dance,” Iwaizumi says, and places his hand on Oikawa’s waist, just like they would if they were in the practice room.

This is too much for Oikawa, who looks down and up constantly at the distance between the log and the creek- about a 6 foot drop- and back up at Iwaizumi’s face. The constant swaying of the log unnerves him, and he all but clings to Iwaizumi in his terror.

“Relax. Look at me.” Iwaizumi tilts up Oikawa’s chin, preventing him from looking down.

Oikawa sucks in a breath as he starts dancing, trying not to glance down as they move across the log. Oikawa turns, keeping his feet planted where they are, when he feels as if he’s going to fall Iwaizumi catches him, planting his hands on Oikawa’s waist. He unconsciously latches onto Iwaizumi’s neck, looking down at their feet.

When he hears Iwaizumi laugh he looks up at him, about to complain before he notices how close their faces are. It’s strange to see Iwaizumi this relaxed. He has a lazy smile on his face, as if he wasn’t about to fall to his death. Oikawa just blushes, protests dying in his throat as he backs away.

“Understand now?” He asks, sitting on the log, one leg dangling over the side as he looks at Oikawa.

“I guess,” he says, still a bit unsure about the whole thing. “Iwaizumi, can I ask you something?”

The lack of nickname causes him to look up, eyebrows raised in suspicion. “Is it something stupid?”

“Probably,” Oikawa says without thinking, “Why’d you get into dance?”

Iwaizumi looks surprised at the question, unusually serious for Oikawa. “It was a few years back when I’d just started working. There was a temporary instructor at the club I was working at and they needed someone to cover for them after they left. Akaashi was already working at a different club then, but he made good money so I agreed.” Iwaizumi says, tone changing as he starts speaking again, “They taught me all the steps and I actually liked doing it- Akaashi helped me learn when we weren’t working and I managed to convince the club to hire him too.”

Oikawa nods along to the story, sitting down opposite of Iwaizumi with his legs crossed. “At first I did it because I didn’t have anything better to do, you know? But I started to actually like it, after learning all the dances I started to make up my own, and obviously the club didn’t approve, but I kept working on them.”

“Show me.”

“What?”

“Your original ones,” he says, standing up and approaching Iwaizumi, “Let’s do them.”

“Hell no,” is all he can say before Oikawa pulls him up.

“Come on, Iwa-chan.”

“Fine, but you gotta show me what you’ve got,” Iwaizumi grabs Oikawa’s hands, humming an unfamiliar tune. He starts dancing, guiding Oikawa as he walks backwards on the log. The steps are simple, much more impressive on a log than anywhere else. He lets go of one of Oikawa’s hands, letting him move on his own. Soon they’re dancing to an imaginary rhythm.

Oikawa smiles, laughing as he twirls on the log, diverging from what Iwaizumi taught him.

\--

“Trust me,” Iwaizumi says simply, and crouches down with his arms outstretched in the grass.

“What if we fall over?”

“Just do it, it’ll be fine.”

Oikawa backs up and starts running to Iwaizumi, involuntarily letting out a yell as he jumps and is lifted. At the last second he stops, only lifted up a few feet before falling back to the ground.

“Don’t get scared. Again.”

They try several times, each time Oikawa stops at the last second, nearly going above Iwaizumi’s head before he chickens out. On the last try they nearly have it, Iwaizumi lifts him up before Oikawa starts laughing, causing them both to fall.

Suddenly they’re both on the ground. “I’m sorry,” he says in between laughs, rolling off Iwaizumi to look at him properly.

Iwaizumi looks calm despite having Oikawa fall on top of him. He’s smiling, making this another one of the rare moments when Oikawa can see his real emotions. It’s refreshing to have Iwaizumi trust him rather than keeping himself closed off like he usually does.

“Please don’t make me do it again, Iwa-chan. Let’s accept our failure.”

“Is the almighty Oikawa giving up?”

“Yes, I relinquish my title. Failure is inevitable,” and he promptly rolls into the grass, lying face down on the ground as Iwaizumi laughs at his deplorable state.

They stay like this for a few minutes, thinking of a new way to fail. “This isn’t gonna work, I have a better idea.” He pulls Oikawa up as they clean the grass off them, both have green stains on their clothes, but neither seem to care.

A short drive later Oikawa finds himself at the lake. They’re a few feet in the water practicing lifts in a way that won’t kill them. Neither bothered to change or brought a change of clothes, which has left their clothes soaking wet. Luckily, the water isn’t freezing.

Oikawa has to admit, this idea is far better than the field. He’s now able to jump freely. This, unfortunately, causes him to over jump, being lifted by Iwaizumi for a second before diving into the water.

“Again.”

“Iwa-chan, are you trying to kill me?” His whining goes ignored by Iwaizumi, who goes back into position.

After many failed attempts he goes back, breathing deeply before splashing comically towards Iwaizumi, who lifts him up over his head. His arms lock and Oikawa is suspended in the air, trying to ignore the urge to jump into the water.

“Hold it, hold it. You’re doing great, Oikawa.” He can hear the smile in his voice. He’s smiling too, finally doing the lift after days of failed attempts.

However, he sees something that makes his blood run cold. “Iwaizumi.” Panic starts to creep into Oikawa’s voice. “Stay right where you are.”

“Oikawa? We just finished doing the lift-”

“I said, stay right where you are.” He feels absurd as he is still suspended over the water, but he can’t let them get near him. ‘Them’ as in a family of ducks, swimming closer to the pair. He starts to sweat profusely despite being completely drenched and feels Iwaizumi’s arms start to tremble with his weight. He gets ready to wrap his arms around Iwaizumi’s neck, but with the combined factors of sweat and weight, the two fall backwards- Iwaizumi- and face first- Oikawa- into the lake.

"What the fuck!" Oikawa screams, frantically splashing around in the water after he surfaces. After living in the city most of his life Oikawa hadn’t learned to properly swim. Or maybe it was because he once accidentally drowned himself somehow at the three foot end of the pool when he was younger. It could have also been when he got kicked off the swim team because he mysteriously disappeared halfway through practice every time. Either way, it hasn’t registered that panicking in the water makes the situation a lot worse.

"Calm down!" Iwaizumi yells, right in his ear.

"You're not doing too well yourself!" Oikawa, in his panic, somehow points at Iwaizumi's floundering.

"Shut up!" Iwaizumi retorts.

"You guys done here?" Hinata calls out to them as he suddenly appears by the shore.

"No!" The two say at the same time, then furiously glare at each other.

Hinata raises his eyebrows as he takes a look at the pair, eyes scanning the lake. "Stand up," Hinata says, bemused.

"It won't work!" Oikawa wails, until he does what Hinata suggested. His feet touch the rocky bottom at the depth of around four feet. "Oh."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for reading this story, it means a lot to us! Tell us what you think about it, too!  
> Q: Do you want any chapter notes?  
> A: "Im cool with anything"
> 
> -Naming the next chapter will probably be a struggle.-


	3. Perpetual State Of-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, Akaashi

A few days later, Oikawa asks Tadashi to play volleyball with him. Surprisingly, Tadashi readily agrees, probably because they rarely see each other play, much less practice. Their parents come along too, as they make the excuse of wanting to see how their sons played against each other.

There is no evidence of staff on duty when they get there other than a piece of paper tacked with tape on the chair. Upon further inspection, the words ‘BRB’ are scribbled on it, with an owl drawn in the corner. Oikawa wonders what kind of person the owner of this sign is, but decides not to think too much about it.

They stand on either side of the sand volleyball court, passing and hitting almost lazily to each other, neither of them focusing due to the heat. Oikawa sets to himself and then hits the volleyball to his brother, who does the same. Koushi yells out encouragement from the sidelines as Sawamura watches, commenting on their techniques. Sometimes he wonders if his parents are more excited about him playing volleyball than he is. 

Mr. Ukai comes in about 20 minutes in, looks at the sign and rolls his eyes. He beckons to his parents and all three adults get into a huddle before slapping each other on the back. Oikawa and Tadashi share a confused glance, the ball dropping in the sand. Sugawara puts an arm around Oikawa while Daichi takes his place next to Tadashi. Suddenly, all of it makes sense. 2v2 sand volleyball, with Mr. Ukai as the referee, scratching the score on the sand.

“Do you want to take turns setting?” Koushi asks as he picks up the volleyball. Oikawa goggles at him.

“Didn’t you play decades ago?”

“Doesn’t mean I lost my skill,” Koushi quips while smiling sunnily, spinning the ball in his hands.

On the other side, Sawamura and Tadashi quietly talk about strategies before they take their places at the middle and rear end of the court.

“Ready?” Ukai calls out before taking his place on the sideline.

“Ready!” The two sides answer, and Koushi tosses the ball to Oikawa. He then takes his place and puts his hands behind his back with his index fingers pointing downwards and centered. His right hand is placed slightly above his left and his left index finger wiggles, signaling that Oikawa should serve middle and deep.

He spins the ball experimentally in his hands and pulls his right arm back before he tosses the ball in the air. No jump serves yet, not until he has a chance to see how the other side reacts. He takes a breath, tosses the ball, and hits. He runs onto the court and watches with satisfaction as it flies past his brother’s and father’s head and suddenly wavers to the side. Before he can proclaim his victory, his father drops from his position from the middle and sprints, passing the ball backward to his brother, who bump sets it back to their father. Instead of hitting like Oikawa expects, Sawamura passes it short over the net.

Koushi barely gets there in time but does a scoop, putting the ball high enough in the air for Oikawa, who waits until the ball is on his right side before hitting it, his wrist snapping over the ball as he does so.

“No fair!” Tadashi says, as the ball drops directly behind him as he blocks, and Oikawa just smirks. Sawamura looks darkly over at his husband, who just winks cheekily and blows a kiss at him. The pair high five and resume to win three more points before they lose because the ball was directly in the sunlight, making Oikawa lose sight of it.

The ball is passed to Tadashi, who also does a float serve, but accidentally snaps his wrist after hitting. Oikawa tracks it to the sideline, about to admit defeat when he sees his dad already set up in his position. He sighs in relief and they pass to each other twice before Oikawa jumps and swings, just barely making it in the deep end of the court.

After another ten minutes, the heat has become unbearable and Koushi has forced Oikawa to take off his shirt after being hit in the head while he was busy trying to fan himself with his hands. Tadashi reluctantly takes off his afterwards while Daichi remains adamant on keeping his on. Until he sees his husband shirtless, that is. At that point he changes his mind, saying something along the lines of wanting to match with his family.

“What the heck!” Oikawa yells, a while later, “You can’t just do a back row attack! You play front row!”

“Yeah I can, this is beach volleyball, not indoor!” Tadashi yells back, annoyed.

\-----

They play for hours, none of them stopping until it’s long past dark and they can’t see the ball. Oikawa checked the score and promptly kicked sand over the marks, never admitting defeat. After they finish they decide to go to dinner, stopping to change before they head to the dining room. 

“There is sand everywhere, Tooru. I think I may be allergic,” Tadashi says, shaking even more sand out of his hair. 

“Sand is Satan’s gift to humanity.”

“I took three showers and there is still sand everywhere,” Sawamura says, trying not to get sand in the carpet, which looks more expensive than Oikawa himself. 

Koushi, somehow, never complains about sand. He says that when he grew up he always went to the beach, now he’s perfected the art of expelling sand from anywhere on his body. Even now, when his family is in need, he refuses to share his secrets. Oikawa is convinced it’s black magic, sending the sand back to hell where it belongs. 

“I’m never going to the beach again, I’m content with being pale forever, tanning be damned,” Tadashi puts his head down on the table, exhausted from hours of volleyball. Oikawa wants to tell him that at least it’s not dance, which has left him with sore muscles for days. But he can’t, not yet at least. 

“The beach is evil,” Oikawa agrees. 

“How do you stand it, Tooru? I barely managed an hour and I’m already sun burnt.”

“What do you mean?”

Tadashi gives him a questioning look, “You’ve been going to the beach a lot since we got here, haven’t you?”

Oikawa laughs nervously, “I guess I have, I’ve been pretty lucky till now.” God he’s an idiot, he hopes Tadashi won’t notice his screw up. 

“Well, I think there’s some sand in my ass, so I should probably take care of that before I get some obscure disease,” Oikawa says with false cheerfulness then sprints towards the bathroom.

He washes his face, looking in the mirror at his burnt skin, peeling around his nose and under his eyes. He feels like an idiot, having to run away from his own family. If it wasn’t obvious that he was lying, it is now- even Tadashi isn’t that oblivious. 

He sits down at the bench, counting the minutes until he has to return. If all else fails, he can sit for an hour or so, then pretend he’s been having stomach cramps. Once, when he wanted to avoid school, he told his father he was having menstrual pains, but that was long before he knew what periods were. He somehow got out of school though; he’s pretty sure Koushi took pity on him. Maybe idiocy can be identified as an illness. He sure as hell hopes so, in that case he’ll be out of school for weeks. 

He comes back a few minutes later to sit at the table. His family has moved beyond the topic of sand and onto something else. He doesn’t really focus, just avoids Tadashi’s suspicious glances. However, Tadashi has suspicious behavior of his own. His constant glances towards his phone don’t go unnoticed, even Oikawa can tell he’s fixated on knowing the time.

He gets up at the same time his brother opens his text messages, and in the few seconds that he glances over at the phone, he finds Tsukishima’s name on the screen. He doesn’t see the messages themselves, but he can guess the content going by his brother’s face, which quickly lights up before forced back into neutrality.

Oikawa frowns at his brother’s phone, suddenly overcome with the urge to throw it out the window. “I’m tired, I’m going to bed,” he says, somehow managing to pass his brother without incident, although he has to physically stop himself from reaching for the phone.

He doesn’t make it ten feet before Tadashi stands up, looking far too cheerful as he walks the opposite direction of their room. Oikawa rolls his eyes, walking up the stairs to get some sleep. He won’t admit it, especially not to Iwaizumi, but he’s nervous. Their dance is tomorrow and he feels under rehearsed and clumsy. He doesn’t have plans for a concussion tomorrow, but it is very likely due to their lack of practice with the lift. 

He tried talking to Iwaizumi about it, but he just told him, “We’ll be fine, Shittykawa, get some sleep”. Which, although sound advice, didn’t help his anxiety. He tries to sleep, he tries for about 15 minutes before fear creeps up, taking hold of his brain and stopping him from closing his eyes. 

He spends about an hour practicing outside the hallway in the dark, cringing every time he steps on a particularly creaky floorboard. He’s careful not to spin too much or else he will bump into something, letting out a nice string of curses that he’s sure everyone in the vicinity would appreciate. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d woken up the entire floor. 

“Tooru,” A voice says, “What are you doing?” It’s well past midnight and Oikawa has to question who’d be wondering the halls at this hour. As he turns around, he sees his brother, fully dressed, albeit sleepy, with his phone in hand.

“Sleep walking,” Oikawa says without thinking. “What are you doing up?” He shoots back, diverting suspicion.

“About to get something to eat,” Tadashi lies, averting his eyes to the vending machine.

“It’s almost one in the morning.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I got hungry.” He fails at ignoring his phone that suddenly goes off with a sequence of vibrations.

If his brother lies as well, then Oikawa has no obligations to tell him his secrets anytime soon. The two have a silent agreement, ignoring each other as they both continue- Tadashi looking over the snack options as Oikawa paces around. He pretends he isn’t sweaty from dancing as Tadashi pretends he isn’t fully dressed, and both eventually go to bed as is, disgruntled. 

\-----

It’s a few hours before the dance and Oikawa is nearly breaking down. “I can’t do this, I can’t do this, I can’t do this,” He grasps at his hair and shivers uncontrollably, Akaashi looks at him with concern. Even though the temperature is warm, he finds that his teeth are also chattering. It also doesn’t help that Akaashi’s show shirts are flashy and open, with a deep v-neck cut while Iwaizumi has a simple collared shirt. Akaashi’s show shirts heavily contradict his muted personality. Usually, he wears his uniform or t-shirts, it’s strange to even imagine Akaashi wearing anything so showy. 

“Yes, you can. You’ve been practicing for this long.” Akaashi comforts him, putting his hands on the other’s shoulders.

“What if I mess up? Iwaizumi is going to hate me!” Oikawa wails. Akaashi shushes him,  enveloping him and gently strokes his hair, making calming noises.

“He won’t. I promise. Did I ever tell you about the first dance that he and I did? It was absolutely terrible. Hajime was so nervous that he did all the steps wrong, all but dragging me across the floor.”

Oikawa lets out a shaky laugh as he imagines what that would’ve looked like. The more they talk the more he realizes how much Akaashi is helping take his mind off the dance.

“The lift was terrible, but neither of us got injured, so that was good. He actually tripped getting off the stage though, sprained his ankle.” Akaashi smiles at the memory as Oikawa laughs. 

“Oh god, the outfits were terrible,” Akaashi says, shuddering as he thinks back.

“Please tell me they were shimmery.”

“Even worse. They had glitter and beaded fringes. Every time I spun, they hit me in the face, and I had the glitter stuck on my skin for weeks.” Akaashi says, horror in his eyes. “Hajime got to laugh while he could, but I got the last one when he had to wear a skintight suit.” 

“Oh my god, please tell me there are pictures.”

“If you make it out alive, I’ll show you the ones that are still intact. I think the outfits are still somewhere too.”

“Akaashi,” Oikawa says, before getting into the car. “Take care of yourself, alright?”

“Mmh,” Akaashi replies absentmindedly, waving to Iwaizumi.

Oikawa finds himself turning around more than once in the backseat to look back at Akaashi, who rapidly becomes smaller and smaller with the distance.

\-----

He feels his pulse pounding in his ears as Iwaizumi whispers something. Probably reassurances, but he can’t concentrate on anything except for his anxiety. Iwaizumi snaps his fingers in front of his eyes, and Oikawa jumps, startled.

They’re both alone on the stage, bright lights nearly blinding him as he gets into position. He’s sure the entire audience can see his shaking; there isn’t much else to see on the empty stage except the two of them. He’s thought of every possible outcome of the evening and none of them are good. What if he falls? What if he steps on Iwaizumi’s foot, breaking it in the process? Oh god, Iwaizumi would kill him. 

Iwaizumi senses his nervousness. “Just follow my lead,” he says, grabbing Oikawa’s hand, not reacting to how clammy it is. He wants to just stop in his tracks, run to the bathroom and stay there until the night is over, but it isn’t going to solve anything. He hasn’t felt this nervous since his final volleyball tournament of the season. In fact, this fear is probably double that.

During volleyball he’s on a team- if he messes up there are others to back him up. Not this time, now it’s just him and Iwaizumi. Normally, he has Tadashi and his parents to cheer him on. He can’t help the feeling of isolation that seeps under his skin, only just noticing how alone he is.  

Iwaizumi squeezes his hand, pulling him out of his thoughts. They’re closer than before, and Iwaizumi’s eyes are more intense now, but not in the harsh, judgemental way they usually are around Oikawa. He’s happy, this is Oikawa’s guess. Sometimes, when they’re having a good practice, his eyes turn to fire. The first time he’d seen it was during the party, when he was dancing without a care. His eyes were alive, holding the same intense look he’s seeing now. 

The music starts, a piano rather than the recording he’s used to. Still, he starts, attempting to control the shakiness of his fingers. He moves quickly, never letting his insecurity show, surprised at how easy it feels to glide across the floor as Iwaizumi leads him. 

He’s twirled, letting his body move around before he faces the audience, remembering what Iwaizumi told him during their practices, “It’s not just a dance, you’re putting on a show. Don’t let them forget that.” He smiles at the unfamiliar faces before moving again.

He grabs onto Iwaizumi for a dip, trying to maintain control until the last second, when he’s completely at Iwaizumi’s will, letting his body relax in his arms before he’s pulled up into another twirl. The other’s eyes meet his, facing the familiar smirk until he turns away.

He feels as if he’s back to the first night they met, but this time there are strangers around them, not the drunk staff from before. Somehow, it doesn’t matter, he lets the fog settle into his mind, forgetting everything but Iwaizumi. “Don’t overthink it,” Iwaizumi had told him, “the flow is more important than the choreography.” Still, Oikawa remembers everything. He remembers the frustration he felt when he first learned the moves, how hard it was to move his body in the correct way, all of it is now as easy as breathing. The step he then struggled with is now done with ease, with Oikawa only occasionally glancing to his feet. Yet, every step they take is one step closer to the lift, which has been successful once, but never on land. 

Oikawa grabs Iwaizumi’s hands- another dip, a twirl, both of them moving as smoothly as possible. Oikawa tries not to look at his feet. He keeps his eyes focused on either Iwaizumi or the audience, smile plastered on his lips. His false confidence seems to be paying off as they earn claps of appreciation every time they do a particularly tricky step. 

He jumps into Iwaizumi’s arms bridal style, spun around until his feet touch the floor, instantly transitioning into another step. He’s honestly surprised they pulled it off, a move they only recently added to their dance, even more recently perfected. He’s still glad to say that he was only dropped once during their practice. The familiar sound of audience clapping rings in his ears, much quieter than the volleyball tournaments he’s used to, which are filled with cheers and chaos, although he can’t say he dislikes the calm appreciation. 

He feels good. The audience seems pleased, and more importantly, so does Iwaizumi. He smiles encouragingly at Oikawa, hands moving to his hips as they complete the final move before the lift. Oikawa tries to hide his anxiety, lacking the false confidence from earlier.

“Ready?” Iwaizumi mouths to Oikawa, who subtly shakes his head. Iwaizumi motions to him, and Oikawa gets ready to do the lift, running up to Iwaizumi’s open arms. His fear takes ahold of him again, slowing his motions before he suddenly stops at the last second. They both freeze, and it seems like the walls are closing in on him where he stands. Before he can further analyze his failure, Iwaizumi jerks him back into action. He takes him by the hand again and makes him twirl, going around the stage in an attempt to cover up their mistake.

The audience seems to notice something strange, but there has yet to be food thrown or loud booing, so Oikawa sees it as an accomplishment. Iwaizumi doesn’t even seem to mind, just twirls him an extra time before dipping. Maybe it’s the confidence, or maybe it’s the smile; either way the audience cheers.  

They finally finish up, smiling and waving at the audience as Oikawa tries to control his shaking body, exhausted by both nerves and the dance itself. At least he didn’t vomit, so he can check another accomplishment off his mental list. 

“You were amazing,” Iwaizumi says as they leave, both having changed out of their performance clothes. They laugh in the car, nervously at first as the tension eases, then let loose when Iwaizumi turns on the radio. 

“Fringe, Iwa-chan, you really wore fringe?”

“Shut up, Assikawa, it was one time,” Iwaizumi thinks for a second before he mumbles, “Two times.”

“That’s awful,” Oikawa laughs.

“Yeah, it was, so be proud of your first show.”

Oikawa wants to agree. “We didn’t do the lift,” he says instead, looking out the window, leg bouncing with adrenaline.

“Nah, it was fine.” 

“Wait, you’re really not upset?” Oikawa says, surprised at his relaxed tone. He thought Iwaizumi would be punch him for not even attempting. 

“Why would I be? I didn’t really think you’d try it anyway.”

“Rude, Iwa-chan. I was about to do it.”

“Of course you were,” he says sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

“Next time I’ll do it.” Oikawa says confidently. 

“What makes you think there’s gonna be a next time?” Iwaizumi looks up and meets his eyes from the rearview mirror.

“Admit it, Iwa-chan, you’d miss my dancing.”

“Shut up.” Iwaizumi reaches up and tilts the mirror, breaking eye contact.

Oikawa doesn’t miss the lack of denial. He leans back in his seat, letting the night breeze caress his skin, breathing in the scent of pine trees.

\-----

They park, never having a chance to shut the doors before Hinata crashes through the trees, breathing heavily.

“Hajime!” He screams, and Oikawa can see that tears are flowing fast down his face. “It’s Keiji.”

Iwaizumi and Oikawa share a look before sprinting after Hinata, who leads the way back to Akaashi’s cabin where large group of the staff are crowding around the steps. Iwaizumi pushes them aside before making his way in.

It’s a mess. The furniture is overturned and the floor is littered with glass due to the broken mirror, slight traces of blood along the cracks. Books and clothes are all scattered around the room. Oikawa finds it hard to believe only one person could create this kind of disaster. 

He feels sick when he sees Akaashi leaning against the bed. He’s still, eyes closed as he lays unmoving. One would think he’s dead if it weren’t for the slight movement of his chest.

He’s bruised and bloody. This time the marks can’t be hidden with clothes or sunglasses. His arms and face are sporting severals shades blue and black, and Oikawa’s sure that the rest of his body is just as bad. The collar of his shirt is soaked in blood, turning the gray material red. He isn’t sure where the blood is coming from, but he feels too ill to go forward. 

Iwaizumi slowly approaches, gently putting his hand on Akaashi’s shoulder. He doesn’t move at first, Iwaizumi has to shake him until he slowly opens his eyes, one of which is swollen and bleeding. 

“Shit, Keiji,” Iwaizumi’s says with shaking hands, “What happened?”

Akaashi manages a weak smile. “I did it,” is all he says, laughing slightly before clutching his side. His breathing is uneven, exhaling sharply and wincing on every inhale. 

“Fuck, Keiji,” Iwaizumi says, shaking him again, “Keiji?” But it is too late, Akaashi’s eyes start to close again, either too tired to continue or losing consciousness.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Iwaizumi chants, shaking the other. “Fuck!” 

He stands up, pacing as he keeps his eyes on Akaashi, all the while whispering curses under his breath. Oikawa waits by the door, unsure of whether he should do anything. 

“Iwaizumi,” he says tentatively, waiting for a response before continuing. 

He doesn’t answer, only glances up at Oikawa before his eyes fall back on Akaashi. “Iwaizumi,” Oikawa repeats, “My dad is a doctor, I can get him.” 

The other doesn’t say anything, eyebrows knit together in worry as he runs his hands through his hair in frustration. 

They stand for what feels like an eternity, Iwaizumi looking down at his unconscious friend, Oikawa looking anywhere else. He doesn’t trust himself to look. His emotions range from anger to sadness, unsure of which one to focus on. 

“Go.” 

It’s so quiet Oikawa hardly hears it. The helplessness in Iwaizumi’s voice is enough for him to hesitate, but not for long, instead he runs out the door, passing the park in a blur. He enters the hotel, ignoring the dark and quiet lounge before he runs up the stairs. 

He knocks on the door loudly, probably waking up other guests in the process, but doesn’t care, he only cares about getting his father as quick as possible. 

Instead, he’s faced with Koushi, who’s immediately concerned when he sees the panic on Oikawa’s face. His dad pulls him out of the hallway before quickly questioning him, “What happened-” 

“Father, I need your help,” he quickly passes Koushi, almost pushing him to the side as he faces Sawamura. 

“What’s wrong? Is Tadashi okay?” He approaches Oikawa, sensing the urgency of this situation as he gathers supplies. 

“He’s fine, it’s someone else.”

Sawamura doesn’t ask questions. Instead he grabs his medical bag before following Oikawa to Akaashi’s cabin, neither of them talking until they enter. 

They push past the concerned staff and into the room, which is only occupied by Hinata, Iwaizumi, and Akaashi, who’s laying on the bed, still unconscious. 

“You,” Sawamura says, directing the question to Iwaizumi, “What’s his name?” 

“Akaashi Keiji.” 

“Are you responsible for him?”

Iwaizumi only nods, wary, “Is he going to be okay?” Sawamura doesn’t say anything else, but turns to check on Akaashi’s vital signs. He points to Hinata and tells him to call 9-1-1.

“How long has he been unconscious?”

“About two minutes.”

Sawamura checks for Akaashi’s pulse. Somehow Oikawa can tell something is wrong, he can see past his father’s confident exterior before he speaks. “Get an AED. Now.” Sawamura unbuttons Akaashi’s shirt and stabilizes his head, Oikawa turns away, unable to look at the yellow bruising on his chest, instead he runs to get what his father asked for. 

Sawamura briskly turns on the device and places the electrode pads on his chest. The next few minutes pass by in a blur, the shocks being given to Akaashi followed by CPR until the ambulance arrives. The room is almost completely quiet, the only sounds are the squeaks coming from Hinata before each shock and Sawamura’s quiet mutters. The room is filled with tension, only increasing until Akaashi opens his eyes. Even if it’s only for a second, the entire room sighs in relief, Hinata finally breaking down into sobs, which Oikawa assumes is his own way of expressing happiness. 

“He has a broken rib and a concussion, internal bleeding is also likely.” Sawamura explains to the paramedics as they transfer Akaashi out on a stretcher into the ambulance.

All three wait on the porch as Sawamura finishes. Hinata is in hysterics, hiccuping sobs every few seconds as Iwaizumi paces. He’s sure Iwaizumi’s fingernails must look terrible, having already been chewed down with worry. Oikawa, on the other hand, can’t process anything. He feels numb. As if he’s watching everything from the outside, never actually present. 

Oikawa remembers when Tadashi broke his leg in a bike accident. He was so scared then, even tried to carry his brother the two blocks to their house. He tried to keep his voice calm, for the sake of his younger brother, who was in too much shock to cry, and told Tadashi to wait before running all the way home. He remembers sobbing so hard that he could hardly tell his parents what happened. 

Koushi comforted him while his father went to Tadashi. He asked his dad whether Tadashi was going to die, but Koushi just smiled and told him everything would be alright. 

Sawamura, being the tough doctor he is, was calm then, as if it weren’t his own son who was injured. For some reason it came as a shock to Oikawa. He’d never seen his dad panic before, but he thought this time would be different. A few years later he asked his father about it again, asked him how he could be so calm. Sawamura admitted that he was just as scared as Oikawa, that being an adult was learning how to deal with fear. 

Oikawa is now positive that was bullshit. 

He sits there, surrounded by adults and kids alike, all of them with matching faces of panic. He remembers Tadashi, how scared he was over just a broken leg. The thought of Tadashi being in Akaashi’s position, found alone in some room, broken ribs, beaten nearly to death, all at the hands of Tsukishima makes Oikawa feel even more helpless.

He can’t breathe, can’t stand the thought of anyone hurting his friends and family. Akaashi, who comforted him not even two hours ago, is now in the back of some ambulance. Who knows where Tadashi will be tomorrow or the day after. Oikawa can only hope he’s there for him. 

His father gets in the ambulance, making sure that Akaashi is not in further peril and the doors slam shut before the ambulance screeches away, the siren fading quickly into the distance.

Iwaizumi stares dazedly off into the distance before turning to his cousin. “What happened?” He asks weakly.

Hinata gulps back his tears before answering. “Keiji told me that he finally decided that he was done with Tsukishima, so he invited him over to talk over it. It seemed to be going okay at first, and then…” Hinata trails off, stifling another sob. “Then Tsukishima started screaming at him, something about not making enough money and how Keiji’s useless, depending on him for everything.” He clenches his fists.

“It’s not true, it’s just not,” Hinata chokes back another sob, voice shaky as he continues, “Keiji never asked for anything.” Oikawa previously learned that Akaashi made more money than Tsukishima, and the waiter probably wasted his paychecks on alcohol or something.

“Keiji started to tell him that he needed to calm down, but that only made it worse.” Hinata swallows, “He started to..” he trails off, unable to finish his sentence. Oikawa puts his hand on Hinata’s shoulder in an attempt to soothe him but he notices that his hands are shaking just as badly. 

“I should have ended it sooner.”

The other two look at Iwaizumi in confusion, his abrupt words surprising them. 

“Iwaizumi-”

“No, I should have stopped it.” Iwaizumi looks straight ahead, where the ambulance was before it drove away, “I shouldn’t have let him go by himself.”

\-----

His father comes back late in the morning, his clothes rumpled and dark shadows underneath his eyes. Oikawa’s sitting with his dad and brother in the next room, waiting for their father. As soon as Oikawa entered the room an hour or so ago he was barraged with questions, most of which went unanswered. 

When Sawamura comes home they all jump up, but only Koushi gets up to greet him, eying Oikawa before approaching his husband. They talk in low whispers, Oikawa and Tadashi sharing a concerned look. They can hear the stress in Sawamura’s voice despite not being able to hear his words. Oikawa fears for Akaashi, half wanting to know if he’s okay while the other half is too afraid to find out. Sawamura sounds exhausted, but hasn’t said anything to cause worry, not yet at least. 

“Tooru,” he calls out from the foyer. There it is. The moment that Oikawa’s been dreading, when his father uses his professional sounding, “I’m calm” tone. He might as well dig his grave right now.

Oikawa wants to pretend that he isn’t in the next room and can hear everything. He wants to go to his room and pretend he’s sleeping, but he can’t. It’s too late. He places the magazine that he was flipping through on the table and goes to his father.

“Is he-” Oikawa starts to say.

Sawamura puts up a hand before Oikawa can speak any further. “Don’t ever go near those people again.” He says without preamble, turning to go upstairs. “He’s fine now, but he would’ve died if I came any later.”

Oikawa exhales shakily, trying to hide his relief and anger before he speaks, “Father, I can explain.” His father doesn’t let him, just raises his arm again and continues towards his room. 

“It wasn’t Iwaizumi! It was Tsukishima, he-” Oikawa gesticulates wildly with his hands, pleading to his father’s back.

Tadashi jumps in unexpectedly. “He wouldn’t. You just don’t like Kei, Tooru, that’s why you’re blaming everything on him! I see the way you treat him.”

“Tadashi, you don’t know anything. You think he’s all that but he’s actually just a sack of shit who abuses anyone when he feels like it.” Oikawa’s voice has dropped instead of rising to match his brother’s tone. 

“Tooru!” Koushi gives him a stern look but Oikawa just rolls his eyes. 

Tadashi begins to argue, tries to tell him that he doesn’t know what he’s talking about, but Oikawa won’t let him, he won’t let Tadashi be ignorant. 

“See if I care if he does the same to you,” Oikawa says coldly, and walks out the door, letting it slam shut behind him. He feels a twinge of guilt for his harsh words but pushes it aside angrily, wanting to apologize to Iwaizumi. He’s unsure of whether he should tell the other about what his father said, but he thinks that he’ll make up his mind when he talks to him.

Oikawa finds Hinata absentmindedly cleaning glasses at the staff building and asks him where he could find Iwaizumi. He points to a little path next to the building and Oikawa thanks him, patting the other on the shoulder before going on his way.

\---

Oikawa locates the run-down cabin and tries to peek in the window, only to see his own reflection. He knocks on the door as it swings open, not even shut properly. He walks in and finds that the room is completely dark, the shutters closed, leaving Oikawa to grope blindly in the direction that he hopes will lead to Iwaizumi. He trips over something and falls, cursing as he lands directly on his knees. He fishes around in his pockets in a sudden burst of inspiration, and takes out his phone, using the flashlight to try to locate the light switch. He turns it on and finds Iwaizumi huddled in the corner, surrounded by bottles of beer.

Oikawa walks over to him, tip-toeing his way around the bottles, and shakes him by the shoulder. He feels the other shuddering under his hand and shakes him a bit harder. Iwaizumi looks up, his face completely drained of emotion, eyes glassy as he holds a half-consumed bottle tightly. He’s been crying and still is, but doesn’t seem to care enough to wipe the tears away.

“You’re such a lousy drunk, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa bursts out, not really knowing what he’s saying.

Iwaizumi cracks a tiny smile, the tears still gathering and falling. “You’re the worst, Shittykawa,” he says, shakily.

“What would Akaashi say?” There he goes again, running his mouth before thinking.

To his surprise, his question seems to have hit Iwaizumi hard. He flinches like a chastised child and looks down again. “He would…” He starts to whisper. “He would probably kick my sorry ass into shape and tell me it’s not my fault.” He pauses.

“But it is my fault,” Iwaizumi whispers, fiercely. “It is, it is, it is,” He chants, his voice getting louder. He throws the bottle away from him, sliding across the floor as the contents spill into a small puddle. He turns towards Oikawa.

“Do you remember what I said last night? How I should’ve ended it sooner?”

Oikawa nods.

“It was me!” Iwaizumi laughs derisively, “I was the one who set them up in the first place. Back then, I didn’t know the the bastard would be like that.” Iwaizumi sighs, deflating as he does so, “And do you know what Keiji told me before they started dating? He said he didn’t want to, but I told him that it would be a good idea since they were almost alike. I thought that it would also be a good chance for him to ‘expand his horizons’. Even saying that sounds like complete bullshit.” Iwaizumi continues to laugh.

“I should’ve fucking listened to him, but by then, they were dating for half a year and it was too late. The fights were happening around that time, but Keiji just took it in stride. It was almost nothing at first- just insults and the like.”

“Then Tsukishima thought because he was rich and all that, he could push Keiji around since we came from nothing. And he would push him around, especially when I was around, just to see what would happen.” He twists the bottom of his shirt in his hands. “Usually, I’d beat him up on the spot, but that would only lead to Keiji getting hurt even more, or at least I thought it would.” Iwaizumi sniffles, “We’ve been friends for ages, you know? Whenever someone would hurt him or Hinata I was always there, ready to kick the shit out of anyone who’d hurt my family.”

Oikawa stops. He never needed to beat anyone up over Tadashi, but he knows what Iwaizumi is talking about. He knows what it feels like to be useless while someone you love is going to get hurt. 

“Then he came in with a black eye one day,” Fresh tears flow down Iwaizumi’s face as he gives a dry laugh, “God, I was useless. Keiji even tried to tell me he fell down the stairs.” 

“Iwaizumi, you’ve had too much, let’s go.” Oikawa tries to help Iwaizumi up but he lazily pushes him away.

“I thought it’d stop,” he says, oddly expressionless, “I just assumed it couldn’t get worse. That the night you found him was the worst it’d get.” Iwaizumi just sits there, no emotion or falter in his voice. “He told me it stopped, and it did. For a month or so. Then he started flinching again, wearing sunglasses and covering his arms, hiding the bruises on his wrists and all that. It was so gradual at first that I thought it’d just stop again.” 

Oikawa bites his lip; he didn’t know how long Akaashi was going through this. “The bruises were only going on for two weeks before this happened.” 

“You probably think I’m just a piece of shit now, don’t you?” Iwaizumi sways unsteadily as he stands, Oikawa still sitting on the floor.

“No.” He takes a deep breath. “Hajime,” Oikawa says, not missing the surprised quirk of Iwaizumi’s eyebrows at the familiarity, “You’re just a human being.”

“A human being who’s also a shitty friend!” Oikawa jumps at the sudden raise of his voice, “It should have been me! He told me that he would be okay, and I believed him.”

“You didn’t know it would end up like this, though,” Oikawa says.

“No! You don’t and you wouldn’t understand! You didn’t have to pick yourself up every time someone tried to shove you down, saying that you’re worth nothing! You’re just some rich kid who just came in at the right wrong time.” Iwaizumi rages, knocking some of the bottles over.

Oikawa feels numb inside. Is this really how Iwaizumi feels about him?

Iwaizumi freezes, then runs his hands through his hair, “Fuck,” he whispers dazedly, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.” Oikawa doesn’t respond. “Oikawa?”

“I..I have to go.” Oikawa gets up from the floor and starts to turn away.

“No! Stay,” Iwaizumi says almost desperately, still swaying. He reaches out and grabs onto Oikawa’s hand. He decides not to mention the fact that he’s not supposed to be with Iwaizumi or any of the staff, instead he closes his eyes briefly and takes a deep breath to steady himself.

“Okay.” He responds, and squeezes Iwaizumi’s hand. “I’ll stay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have time, please drop off a comment! We'll love to hear from you!


	4. -Unfinished Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hmm. Interesting.

When Oikawa wakes up he feels exhausted, as if he hadn’t slept at all. He doesn’t even remember doing so. Also, he isn’t sure where he is. All he knows is that it smells like alcohol and there is a pool of beer under his hand. As he tries to stand, he feels something pressing on his side. He’s surprised to see Iwaizumi sleeping next to him, using his shoulder as a pillow. 

Oikawa suddenly remembers the events of the previous night: the dance, Akaashi, the ambulance, all of it. He groans and presses his hand to his forehead. He feels like an idiot. For some reason that’s the only thing this ‘vacation’ has accomplished. The two week journey of self realization -or at least the one he’s experiencing now- is something he did not sign up for, only to find out he’s the biggest idiot on the planet, probably the entire universe. 

He looks down at Iwaizumi, sound asleep and cradling the bottle from last night. He looks awful. There are tear tracks down his face and his eyelids are rimmed red, beer spilled on his clothes and on the floor. Still, he looks strangely peaceful, in the refreshing way he does when he isn’t yelling at Oikawa. 

He looks away, eyes  scanning the room for the first time. Last night it had been so dark he didn’t get a chance to see where Iwaizumi lives. Now light filters through the screen door and windows, illuminating the room. It’s simple, like Akaashi’s, but more personal. An old record player sits on the shelf while faded posters litter the walls. Oikawa doesn’t recognize any of the bands, but he knows Iwaizumi well enough to assume they’re rock, one of the few genres he listens to. 

The old carpet is the same as the rest of the housing, the stains just as questionable and style just as tacky. The layout is also similar to the rest of the rooms, yet there is something unmistakably  _ Iwaizumi _ about it. Maybe it’s how the furniture is pushed against the walls for more floor space, the hastily folded clothes thrown over a chair, or the overflowing rack of records. 

As he looks around the room he notices the alarm clock in the corner, the time 11:00 A.M. flashing in green light. God, his parents are going to kill him. He moves quietly, leaning Iwaizumi’s body against the wall so he doesn’t fall. His joints pop when he stands up, making him wince at the sound. His head is pounding although he doesn’t remember drinking at all last night. The pain causes him to cringe as he maneuvers around abandoned beer bottles. 

At the door he takes one last look at Iwaizumi before he makes his way to the hotel.

\-----

“Where have you been?” His dad demands as soon as he steps through the doorway. It’s as if he was sitting there waiting for him to come back, not that it would surprise him. 

“Out,” Oikawa answers vaguely, gesturing outside the windows.

“With the staff,” his father finishes, looking up from his newspaper as he sits next to his husband.

Oikawa stops himself from snapping. The lack of sleep and the heavy tension both cause him to feel irrationally angry. He takes a breath before he continues, “I’m sorry, I had to take care of some things.”

“We were worried about you,” Koushi says before Sawamura can say anything. His tone sounds unusually genuine, far less accusing than his father’s.

“I know,” Oikawa looks at his feet, pretending to be ashamed of his actions, “I just needed some time to think.” Koushi gives a suspicious glance before turning to Sawamura, who actually believes him. Tadashi, on the other hand, still looks bitter from last night. Oikawa bets he’d look even more angry if he weren’t so tired, his constant yawning giving away his pissed off demeanor. 

“I don’t want you sneaking off again, Tooru,” Sawamura says as he stands up, leaving no room for argument, “Come back  _ on time _ after you leave.”

“I’m really sorry, and I won’t do it again.” Oikawa turns to Tadashi. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know what I was saying. I was just really worried about a friend.” His brother seems to understand, his actions are interpreted as either a nod or he’s dozing off again, one of the many setbacks of falling asleep in the early morning hours. 

He gives one last reluctant nod as he follows Sawamura to the dining room. Koushi is the only one who looks unimpressed, so Oikawa tries his best to look even more regretful and smiles.

Koushi raises his eyebrows but doesn’t say a word as he follows the rest of his family, leaving Oikawa to slump where he stands.

\-----

He finds himself back at the volleyball court after making an excuse to join an activity. While not entirely true, it wasn’t false either, and luckily his parents didn’t ask any questions. He walks along the edge of the court, looking at his feet as they kick little bursts of sand in the air. Oikawa bumps into something solid, and has a strong feeling of deja vu, half expecting Akaashi to be in front of him again. Oikawa looks up and finds someone else instead, someone who is peering way too closely at his face. He looks strange, with golden eyes and spiked black and white hair. Oikawa guesses he’s new, or else he’d definitely remember him. 

After another second of scrutinizing, the other bursts out into a huge smile and starts to shake Oikawa’s hand excitedly. “Bokuto Koutarou at your service!” He says before Oikawa can say anything.

He can’t help but smile at Bokuto’s enthusiasm, “Oikawa,” he says. 

“Hello Oikawa, do you know how to play?” He asks, gesturing towards the net.

“Yeah,” Oikawa smiles, he knows more than just how to play, “I’m on Aoba Johsai’s team.”

He doesn’t really expect Bokuto to know the name, but once he says it Bokuto’s face lights up. “Really? I used to play for Fukurodani.”

“Seriously?” Oikawa asks, he’d played against them recently, they were good. 

Bokuto smiles, “Yeah I was the ace, one of the top five.” He says proudly, pointing to himself in satisfaction. 

“I played-”

“Wait, let me guess!” Bokuto interrupts, studying Oikawa.

“Setter,” he says after a couple of seconds.

“How’d you know?” Oikawa asks, though it seems pretty obvious to anyone familiar with volleyball.

Bokuto just smiles, “Process of elimination. That, and the way your hands look.”

“My hands?” Oikawa asks, subtly stepping back.

“They look soft, most spikers have calloused hands, yours are all soft and dainty.”

“Dainty?”

“That’s a compliment.”

“Um.” It’s probably true considering the fact that when he sets, the ball doesn’t really make a sound in his hands.

“Tooru!” Oikawa recognizes Ushijima’s voice before he turns around, the familiar disgusted feeling settling in his stomach. If he didn’t know better he thought he even heard Bokuto whisper ‘shit’ under his breath; seems as if Ushijima’s reputation has spread or something, he isn’t sure. 

Ushijima’s breathless when he walks onto the sidelines, hands on his knees and attempting to hide the fact that he’d ran from God knows where. “I heard a volleyball,” is all he says, as if the ball itself was calling out to him. 

“I thought I’d join in for a set or two,” his eyes scan the court looking for the source of the noise before he stills. “Koutarou?” Ushijima’s questions, looking past Oikawa’s shoulder.

Bokuto’s face pales visibly before he waves at Ushijima. “Wakatoshi, it’s been...a while, hasn’t it?”

“Actually, it has. It’s been three months, two weeks, 6 days, and 4 hours exactly.” Ushijima replies blandly, looking at his watch. “Where have you been?” He pants, still controlling his breathing. 

“Oh, you know,” Bokuto says, scratching the back of his neck. “Out and about. Seeing the world. Things.” Bokuto grins as he rocks back and forth on his feet. His bravado seems to be melting, and even his hair looks like it’s drooping.

“Koutarou.” Oikawa starts to back away slowly but decides to sit down on a nearby bench to watch the drama unfold.

“Okay! Okay, I was scared. I owe people money,” Bokuto throws his hands up surrender.

“You’re right about something for once,” Ushijima says bluntly. “You keep saying that you’ll buy everyone a round-”

“And I put it on my tab,” Bokuto jumps in, helpfully.

“Yes, but, you have $-543 on your tab as of right now. And some cents.”

“Eh, stuff happens.” Bokuto shrugs nonchalantly. “But that’s why I have you, Waka.” Bokuto bats his eyelashes.

Ushijima just stares at Bokuto and rolls his eyes. “I did not give you this job after you nearly caused a riot in the bar-”

“But-” Bokuto starts to interrupt.

“I may have helped you out that time,” Ushijima continues, putting his hand up to silence his friend. “But as I said before, I did not give you this job so that you can come back to me every time you need money to pay for something.” He adds under his breath, “By clinging onto my legs, out of all things.”

“About that, actually.” Bokuto grins sheepishly.

“No.” Ushijima says flatly. “You-”

“What do you think of my clothes? Cool, huh?” Bokuto says abruptly, striking poses in order to change the conversation.

“I’m glad you’re finally wearing decent clothes for once. Wait, don’t you have a uniform?” Either Ushijima isn’t good at picking up abrupt changes in conversation or decides to ignore it entirely, but he rolls with Bokuto’s comment.

“These aren’t mine.”

Ushijima squints. “Excuse me?”

“Mhm.”

“Then whose are those?” Ushijima looks disgusted.

“I have my sources.” Bokuto winks and snaps his fingers.

“And by sources, you mean…?”

“I saw this sweet jacket left on a chair for a while and no one claimed it, so it became mine. And so did every other article of clothing I came across- the best, free way to get some stylish clothes. Rich people have nice taste.” Bokuto says in one breath.

“I thought you told me you had an awakening- usually you come to me whining about people criticizing you, but you didn’t.”

“That’s right, Waka. Keiji came up to me that day and told me it was wrong to steal,” Bokuto says with a grin. Oikawa’s stomach drops when he hears the name. 

“So did I, on a daily basis.” Ushijima reminds him, crossing his arms.

“No bro, this time it was real.  _ Keiji _ talked to  _ me _ .” Bokuto looks starstruck.

“I don’t think you need to be proud of that. He was scolding you.”

“Wait, Keiji? As in Akaashi Keiji?” Oikawa interrupts, contributing to the conversation for the first time. The other two seem surprised that he’s still there. 

“Yeah. You know him?” Bokuto smiles.

“He’s in the hospital right now.” Oikawa mentally slaps himself, why is he even telling Bokuto this anyway?

The other looks as if he’s been punched in the stomach. “What?!”

“There was an incident last night and…” Oikawa trails off uncertainly.

Bokuto’s still processing what he’s been told, “All that commotion was about Keiji?” he asks before his entire demeanor changes, looking at Ushijima angrily, “You knew about this, didn’t you?” He snarls, getting in the other’s face.

“I know some things, but I’m not sure what happened.” Ushijima says, trying to push the other away.

Suddenly, Bokuto deflates, no longer angry. This is probably his third distinct emotion within the past thirty seconds. “I need to see him.”

“Koutarou, you’ve been here for two days, they won’t let you leave now.” Ushijima says. 

“I don’t care, I have to go.”

“How do you plan on doing that?” Ushijima says, exasperated.

“Isn’t he dating Tsukishima? I’ll ask him-” Bokuto starts to say.

“No,” Oikawa stops him from continuing, he doesn’t want Tsukishima going anywhere near Akaashi.

Bokuto squints, giving him a questioning look before he nods, “Alright,” he sighs, “I guess I’ll have to find another way.”

\------

They find Iwaizumi staring off into the distance as he leans against the bar, a record lazily spinning in silence as Hinata sweeps the floor. The room smells like alcohol and cigarettes, despite the strict policy against them. 

“Iwaizumi,” Oikawa says as he taps the other on the shoulder. Iwaizumi blinks and stares at Bokuto, surprised.

“You’re back,” is all he says, all he gets to say before Bokuto lifts him up from his seat.

“Take me to him, please,” Bokuto says.

Iwaizumi tilts his head in confusion before he realizes what Bokuto is implying. His gaze moves down, staring at the ground as he talks, “How much do you know?”

“I don’t need to know, I just want to see him.”

This catches Iwaizumi off guard, analyzing what he’s been told before he finally sighs, “Fine.” Bokuto smiles and hugs Iwaizumi, who looks too shocked to react to the sudden contact. “Don’t make me change my mind,” Iwaizumi says in a pained voice, his body slumping in relief as Bokuto’s arms squeeze him one last time before letting go.

They all pile out of the bar and Oikawa eyes Hinata on the way out. “Are you coming?” He asks. Hinata looks towards the half swept floor back to the car, a worried look on his face. Oikawa feels bad for him, the dark bags and red rings that surround his eyes make him look exhausted, which he probably is, having nearly lost his friend only a few hours ago. 

Hinata looks at his feet, “I can’t. Not yet at least.” He plays with the hem of his shirt, still avoiding Oikawa’s eyes, “Plus, someone’s got to make an excuse for your absence.” 

Oikawa gives a sad smile, “Okay, I’ll tell him you said hi.”

When they make it to the car Bokuto looks at the busted window suspiciously, “Iwaizumi, what happened here?”

He just looks at the window and shrugs, glaring at Oikawa to stay silent. Bokuto looks at the two of them suspiciously, “...Alrighty then,” he finally supplies, buckling up in the back as Oikawa takes the passenger seat. 

They drive to the hospital in brooding silence, sometimes interrupted by failed attempts at small talk and the low static coming from the radio. Bokuto fidgets, his fingers twining and untwining as his leg jiggles erratically. Iwaizumi keeps his eyes on the road, left hand clenched around the steering wheel as his right occasionally brushes against the dials of the radio. Oikawa leans back in his seat, his body tense and he feels as if he’s being strangled by the seat belt.

Bokuto all but kicks the door open as soon as they park, sprinting towards the hospital doors. Iwaizumi sighs, but lets him go. Oikawa walks next to him, matching his slower pace as they walk to the front desk, neither of them talking until they enter the building. Iwaizumi asks for Akaashi’s room number, apparently Bokuto had run off without them, having already asked the exasperated nurse.

When they finally get to his room Bokuto is waiting outside talking to a doctor, or at least the doctor is trying to talk to him, but he taps his foot impatiently, face nearly pressed against the glass. 

“What’s up?” Oikawa asks.

“You’re-” The doctor starts to say.

“Not supposed to stay long, don’t be too energetic, and be careful,” Bokuto finishes for him. The doctor rolls his eyes but lets them pass. Bokuto runs in first, followed by Oikawa, who  looks back to find Iwaizumi waiting by the door hesitantly. 

The curtains are drawn, letting in a small crack of sunlight into the room that cuts across Akaashi’s bed. The monitor beeps and the LED light emitted from it seems to come out of nowhere. The door clicks shut behind them and it seems too quiet all in the moment.

“Keiji!” Bokuto says in a loud whisper, and rushes over to the hospital bed. Oikawa and Iwaizumi follow at a slower pace as they inspect the room.

Akaashi’s face is drained of color and his features look sunken in, emphasized with his bruises. He breathes softly, eyes closed. Bokuto cradles Akaashi’s hand in both of his, murmuring softly. “Who…” He starts to say, then clears his throat. “Who did this to him?”

“Kei.” Iwaizumi speaks up from the doorway, the name dropping with a note of finality.

Bokuto swallows thickly before muttering something under his breath. Oikawa can guess it has something to do with kicking Tsukishima’s ass. He doesn’t move though. He just looks down at Akaashi with such emotion in his eyes that Oikawa realizes that Bokuto has feelings for the other.

“Bokuto,” Oikawa says softly, then motions for him to come out the room. He makes a soft noise of protest before he follows Oikawa. Thankfully, Iwaizumi stays behind to pull up a chair beside the bed.

Bokuto keeps his eyes on Akaashi until they leave the room, a doctor quickly moving into the room as they exit. “What is Akaashi to you?” Oikawa asks as soon as the door shuts. 

“Oh, just… someone,” Bokuto says albeit unconvincingly. He looks back towards Akaashi. Through the glass he can’t see the wires and bandages, only a figure lying on the bed. He can hardly see Iwaizumi’s hand holding Akaashi’s. “He was the only one who refused me,” he continues, still staring through the foggy window, “Wakatoshi had just lent me some money, I promised I’d spend it on something useful, but Keiji knew I was bullshitting and made me return it. He made me return all the clothes  _ and _ apologize to the guests before I even knew his name.”

Bokuto gives a bitter laugh, “People are so careful around me, like I’m made of glass, but never Keiji.” Bokuto turns away from the window, blushing and avoiding Oikawa’s eyes. He coughs, embarrassed. “Yeah, but, you know, we’re just friends. How do you know him?”

Oikawa doesn’t want to admit to knowing about Tsukishima; Bokuto may kill him if he does. “He taught me to dance,” He doesn’t elaborate, but Bokuto looks content. 

“He is an amazing dancer, I signed up for seven lessons before he banned me from taking them,” Bokuto smiles as he thinks back, “I stepped on his foot like twelve times. I thought I broke it.”

Oikawa smiles with him, “I was pretty bad at first, but Akaashi always motivated me.”

Bokuto smiles bitterly at the floor, “It feels like we’re at a funeral.”

“It does, doesn’t it.” 

The same doctor from before leaves the room, eying the two before he walks away. They walk back into the room in silence. Iwaizumi hasn’t moved since they left, just continues to stare at Akaashi’s unmoving body. Oikawa feels as if he’s back to the night before, not knowing when Akaashi would wake up. He sees Akaashi’s eyelids flicker and wonders what he’s dreaming about. Hopefully anything other than the incident last night.

Iwaizumi still hasn’t said anything, the hand that isn’t holding Akaashi’s is tapping anxiously on the chair, having no more nail to chew. Oikawa pulls up the chair on the other side, awkwardly sitting for a few seconds before he reaches for Akaashi’s other hand. They’re are so pale and lifeless that he doesn’t expect them to be as warm as they are. 

“He’s not in a medically induced coma, which is good, I guess,” Iwaizumi says, his voice cracking slightly. “He’s just asleep, according to the doctor.”

Oikawa says nothing but nods, fingers slightly squeezing Akaashi’s hand. They sit in silence, the only sound is the slow beeping of the machines and the tapping of Iwaizumi’s fingers. Even Bokuto is quiet, his typically restless motions are now still. 

Oikawa can see bruises on Akaashi’s arms, yellow and blue fading down to his shoulder. He can’t tell which bruises are new or old, all of them mixing together to create a morbid painting across his skin. The only relieving thought is that Tsukishima won’t hurt him again. If he did, he’d have hell to pay. 

“I used to be jealous of Tsukishima,” Bokuto breaks the silence, snapping their attention away from their occupied thoughts, “Keiji was always so quiet, but he talked freely to Tsukishima, all animated and passionate. I thought they were in love,” he finishes with a bitter laugh.

“We all did,” Iwaizumi says, “They were so happy at first.” This comes as a surprise to Oikawa, he didn’t even know Tsukishima was capable of happiness, much less make someone else happy. He imagined their relationship started with arguing and fighting; he didn’t even think they were once happy together. 

“That’s why no one thought it’d get worse,” Iwaizumi swallows, “He swore that the first time was an accident and that Kei apologized. When it happened again he just made up more excuses.” 

“How long?”

“Almost a year.” 

Oikawa expects Bokuto to be angry, but he’s too tired to react. Instead, his shoulders slump as he sits down, taking the last empty chair in the room and staring at the floor. “I didn’t even notice.”

“No one did.”

“I should have,” Bokuto sighs, resting his chin on the bed.

“Even if you did it wouldn’t have helped. Keiji insisted he could take care of it, refused my help countless times.” Iwaizumi’s eyes are trained on Akaashi, never looking at Bokuto when he talks.

“He was stubborn.”

_ Was _ . The word rings in his ears, leaving a sour feeling in his stomach, “He’s not dead, you know.” Oikawa feels weird talking about Akaashi while he’s laying next to them. He heard that comatose patients can hear while they’re unconscious. He has to remind himself that Akaashi isn’t in a coma either, but won’t wake up for a few more hours. Still, the thought of him waking up alone is still troubling.

Bokuto rubs his eyes, “You’re right, we gotta stop doing that.” 

The rest of the visit is filled with silence. They sit in the same positions until the doctor drives them out, almost pushing Bokuto out the door. The car ride is equally quiet, everyone caught up in their own thoughts to pay attention to the others. This time the radio plays softly in the background, no one bothering to change the station when the music gets bad because nobody cares enough. They just stare into the darkness, listening to the soft rain rather than the whiny songs. 

\-----

“Hey, Uglyshima!” Bokuto yells out from across the room as he kicks the door open, “Didja miss me?” To the casual observer, he might look the average boisterous young adult- or even more so than average- earning dirty looks from the patrons, but he is furious. His wild eyes are glinting with anger, complemented with his too-wide smile.

 

“It’s been such a long time!” He exclaims, striding over to slap Tsukishima soundly on the back. He looks around the room and his face challenges anyone to come near him.

 

“Not long enough,” Tsukishima replies with disdain, holding onto the drinks before they fall.

 

“Mess with Keiji again and I’ll mess your face up,” Bokuto whispers into Tsukishima’s ear. “See you later!” He says loudly as he exits the room.

 

\------

Oikawa sits down and his father gives him an angry look, crossing his arms, “Where were you today?” 

 

“The beach, I met the activities director,” he says, already having rehearsed his excuse.

 

“Really,” his father sighs, “because I went to the beach today and you weren’t there.”

 

Oikawa’s eyes widen, stuttering for a few seconds before he hears a voice behind him, “He was with me.”

Oikawa looks back, half fearing Iwaizumi is there, instead he sees Ushijima with the same blank expression as usual. His father raises his eyebrows and Tadashi looks shocked.

 

“Y-yeah, I was with Ushijima,” Oikawa agrees, hoping he doesn’t look as surprised as his family. 

 

“If you say so,” his father says, and thankfully looks more convinced.

 

Oikawa looks at Ushijima again, mouthing the words ‘thank you’ when his family turns away. He only looks back at him unflinchingly but not before turning around to leave with a small quirk of his lips.

 

“Since when you were you and Ushijima bffs?” Tadashi asks, looking more interested than usual.

 

“Some things bring people closer together, little brother,” Oikawa says airily, casually insinuating the incident with Kei.

 

If his brother gets the hint, he makes no indication of it and instead turns to his phone.

 

Suga casually drinks his water, glancing towards the other side of the room, but not contributing to the rest of the conversation. He, once again, seems to be the only one aware of Oikawa’s bullshit. Luckily, he doesn’t say anything, just watches Oikawa closely.

 

Oikawa fidgets under his dad’s scrutiny and plays with the edge of the tablecloth to make himself look more natural. He ends up zoning out and pulling half of it off the table before he notices his family looking at him strangely.

 

“I feel ill,” Oikawa lies, “I’m going back to our rooms.” He announces, pointedly looking at his father, who nods in approval. He treads up the carpeted steps and shuts the door softly behind him before he collapses into bed. Maybe, he thinks, maybe he should’ve just stayed inside since the beginning and never came out of his room. He takes out his phone and flicks through his apps absentmindedly before the phone falls out of his hand and onto his face. _Fuck,_ _that hurt_. At least he’s all alone and no one will see his embarrassing injury.

 

It’s as if God is watching him, waiting until he thinks he can hide his dumb ass from the world, because just a second after his phone nearly breaks his nose, he hears a knock on the door. Growling in frustration, he stands up. “Tadashi, did you forget your key again?” Oikawa calls, rubbing his still throbbing nose. 

 

When he doesn’t answer, Oikawa opens the door, surprised to find Iwaizumi staring at him. “Iwa-chan?”

 

Iwaizumi frowns at the nickname, but has long since gotten used to it, “Lets go, Shittykawa.” 

 

“Go?” Oikawa leans against the doorway, confused.

 

“Yes, go, because I know you wanna stay in here for the next-” he stops mid sentence, eyes squinting as he looks at Oikawa intently, “Did you hurt yourself?” he finally asks.

 

Oikawa instinctively covers his nose, “No.”

 

“Come on, dumbass,” he rolls his eyes, dragging Oikawa out by his free hand. 

 

“Where to?” Oikawa looks around quickly to make sure no one is watching. He sees the light on in his parents’ bedroom but shrugs it off, thinking that they’re still at dinner.

 

“Haven’t decided.” Iwaizumi pointedly looks forward and doesn’t spare him a glance.

 

“Sounds scary, Iwa-chan, are you going to murder me?” Oikawa whispers as they bound down the stairs, wincing at a particularly creaky stair.

 

“Haven’t planned on it, but anything’s possible.”

 

“Rude.” Oikawa rolls his eyes in the near darkness.

 

They leave the hotel in silence, sneaking past the nearly empty dining room and the echoing halls. The grass is wet and squishes against his feet uncomfortably, and Oikawa curses himself for forgetting shoes. Fortunately, it stopped raining a while ago, leaving clear skies and a gentle breeze.

 

Iwaizumi is still leading Oikawa, hands grasped together. Apparently he was so focused on making a quiet escape that he hadn’t let go. Oikawa doesn’t mention it. 

 

\----

From upstairs, Koushi watches his son look quickly in both directions before breaking into a sprint with someone right beside him. “I knew it,” He says quietly.

“Knew what?” His husband says, from their bed.

“Nothing,” Koushi replies. He is no stranger to teenage rebellion. He lets the curtain fall back into place and turns. “You want to watch some golf?”

\-----

“No, Shittykawa, you’re not borrowing shoes.” Iwaizumi says, exasperated.

“It’ll only take a second,” Oikawa pouts. 

“Suck it up, princess.”

“So the plan is to just walk on the beach?” Which is exactly what they’ve been doing for the past twenty minutes. They stopped holding hands a while ago, much to Oikawa’s disappointment, and now they’re walking in large circles around the lake.

“The original plan was to walk in the woods but  _ someone _ forgot shoes.” Although they’re arguing, neither of them are angry, it’s more playful than anything else. 

“I didn’t think we’d leave the building,” he defended.

“Oh yeah, you thought maybe we’d have dinner with your parents or something?” Iwaizumi laughs at the thought, “ _ Shoeless? _ ” 

“Obviously not.”

“So what was it?” Iwaizumi pokes him in the side, “maybe your phone gave you a concussion?” 

“Hey! You swore to secrecy,” Oikawa accuses, holding onto his side, “Plus, it’s a completely normal injury. Could have happened to anyone.” 

“But it didn’t happen to anyone. The perfect Oikawa Tooru dropped his phone on his face.”

Oikawa looks at Iwaizumi, hand over his chest, “You think I’m perfect?” he says as he wipes a fake tear from his eye. 

Iwaizumi groans, “Shut up, Shittykawa. Don’t make me regret this.”

“Regret what, exactly?” Oikawa looks back at the hotel, slowly growing further and further away, “Cause you still haven’t explained why you kidnapped me.”

“I don’t know either,” Iwaizumi says before grumbling something under his breath.

“What was that?”

“I didn’t want to be alone,” he mumbles again as he looks away from Oikawa in favor of looking at the lake. Although they’re far from the hotel, the lights still reflect off the smooth surface. 

For the first time that night Oikawa doesn’t know what to say, and settles for walking in silence. It’s not awkward, but there is a strange tension surrounding them. Oikawa’s never been good at comforting people. Even if he did try, Iwaizumi would probably punch him for being sappy. 

“What did the doctor say?” Oikawa asks, finally breaking the silence.

“They’ll call when he wakes up.”

“When will that be?”

Iwaizumi sighs, “A few hours, maybe?”

Oikawa thinks back to earlier and how amazing it would have been if Akaashi woke up while they were all there like in the movies. One of them could have said the magic phrase that wakes them up and they wouldn’t be stuck waiting. Real life doesn’t work like that, Oikawa guesses, in real life people get hurt and wake up alone. 

“I didn’t want to wait alone,” he repeats, still avoiding Oikawa’s eyes. 

“Me neither.”

“Guess this kidnapping wasn’t all bad,” Iwaizumi walks further up the beach, away from the water and into a grassy area, “sorry to destroy your socks though.”

Oikawa shrugs, “Eh, they’re just socks.”

“Wait,” Iwaizumi pauses, looking down to examine Oikawa’s socks. Oikawa tries to bury his feet in the sand but it’s too late,  “Do those have aliens on them?” Iwaizumi says in disbelief.

“No!” 

“You’re lying, those are definitely aliens.”

“Shut up, they’re cool.” Oikawa elbows Iwaizumi in the side.

“Well, now I feel bad about destroying your ‘cool’ socks.” Iwaizumi says sarcastically.

“Don’t worry, I have like ten other pairs,” Oikawa says, blushing.

“Oh my god, of course you do.”

Iwaizumi’s relentless teasing is cut short by his phone ringing. He glances at it for a few seconds, deciding whether it’s worth picking up before finally answering. “Hello?”

Oikawa can’t hear who is on the other end but he can guess they’re telling him something good judging on the way Iwaizumi lights up, eyes widening as he quickly thanks them. He turns his head towards Oikawa, the unknown caller still speaking on the other end, “He’s awake,” Iwaizumi mouths.

Oikawa’s eyes widen in surprise.  _ He’s awake _ . He feels a weight lifted off his shoulders, relief flooding through him. Although it’s only been a few hours, Oikawa feels as if last night happened ages ago. But now Akaashi’s awake. 

“Yes, thank you so much. Mhmm, first thing tomorrow,” Iwaizumi tries to hide the quivering of his lip, looking down at the grass as he finishes talking to the doctor. A tear slides quickly down Iwaizumi’s cheek before he has a chance to stop it.

“You’re such an ugly crier, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says, laughing lightly.

Iwaizumi punches Oikawa’s arm with his free hand as he stares at his phone screen long after he hangs up, tears falling again. “Shut up, you’re crying too.”

Oikawa wipes at his face and is surprised to find that he is crying, the back of his hand shining wetly in the dim lighting.

The two of them are crying and smiling like idiots before Iwaizumi suddenly starts laughing, laughing so hard that he bends over, holding onto his stomach. Oikawa just looks at him, startled.

“Sorry,” Iwaizumi apologizes between bouts of laughter, tears still flowing freely down his face.

“For what?”

“For dragging you into all of…” Iwaizumi flaps his hand. “This.”

“No, it’s all right. It was just kinda inevitable. A bit like a train wreck.” Oikawa sighs heavily. “I mean, not that meeting you guys was a terrible incident, ugh, no, train wrecks aren’t inevitable, really… or are they? What I really mean to say is-” He babbles and breaks off, giving up on forming a coherent sentence.

Iwaizumi looks at him, head tilted, and Oikawa’s afraid that he might go for another swing at his arm, but he doesn’t. After a moment, Iwaizumi’s eyes crinkle slightly at the corners as he smiles a little and says, “You’re still the worst.”

Oikawa can’t find the words to reply back, and instead sticks his tongue out before finding a patch of slightly less wet grass to lie back on. He folds his arms behind his head and inhales, blades of grass tickling his face. Iwaizumi comes over and stands next to Oikawa, his towering presence becoming slightly uncomfortable for the latter.

He tugs on Iwaizumi’s shoelaces, and as the other shoots him a glare as he bends down to retie them, Oikawa motions for him to lie back also.

“Just as I suspected. You have boring socks.” Oikawa says, peering at the other’s feet.

Iwaizumi settles next to him, resting his head on his arms and staring into the cloudless sky. “Correction, I have dry boring socks.” 

Oikawa frowns as he feels the wet fabric cling to his feet uncomfortably, “I bet the aliens are jealous.”

“The gross sandy ones or the ones up there?” Iwaizumi asks, pointing towards the stars.

Oikawa smiles, “Both.”

“Look, there’s the Big Dipper.” Oikawa traces a path of stars with his finger. Iwaizumi doesn’t say anything, but his eyes follow Oikawa’s movements.

“And that one’s Orion.” His finger changes direction and Iwaizumi scoffs.

“Yeah right, you’re just making things up.”

“I’m hurt, Hajime,” Oikawa replies, dropping the nickname. “I’m trying to educate you and you tell me my information is fake.”

Oikawa impulsively grabs onto Iwaizumi’s hand and continues his explanation, hoping that the other won’t notice that his hand is shaking slightly.

“That formation looks exactly like your face.” Iwaizumi points directly upward after a while.

“I know my face is beautiful and sparkly, you’re just jealous. It’s okay though, you don’t have to lie.”

A flash of light streaks through the sky and both of them instinctively get up and look at the same time, cracking their heads together as they do so. Oikawa cradles his head as Iwaizumi rubs at his forehead, a bright red spot rapidly becoming visible, “Shit.”

“A shooting star; make a wish,” Iwaizumi says with a grimace. 

Oikawa just rolls his eyes. “They’re not stars and the light is produced by heat,” he says seriously, folding his arms.

“Whatever, just do it.” Iwaizumi closes his eyes and his lips move soundlessly as Oikawa looks at him with amusement. He’s still looking when Iwaizumi opens his eyes again.

“Did you do it?” Their eyes make contact for a few seconds that might as well feel like an eternity for Oikawa.

“Yeah,” Oikawa says, quickly looking up at the sky. “I did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These past two weeks have been really busy for us, but thank you so much for your continued support! We appreciate your comments greatly!


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